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OF

JOHN OF THE CROSS, —

OF THE

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ORDER OF OUR LADY OF MOUNT CARMEL.

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| ae TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL SPANISH

Ss DAVID LEWIS, Esq. M.A.

EDITED BY THE OBLATE FATHERS OF SAINT CHARLES.

ie

< -
:
a

>
a

WITH A PREFACE

BY

.

HIS EMINENCE CARDINAL WISEMAN.

VOL. IL -_ haa

2 LONDON:
GMAN, GREEN, LONGMAN, ROBERTS, & GREEN.
Ey 1864. ee:

s o _ . > -

«

JE INSTITUTE OF MEDIAEVAL STUDIES
1O ELMSLEY PLACE
\ TORONTO 5, CANADA,

Se QCES 1 WIPES

713

CONTENTS

SECOND VOLUME.

a
2

‘SPIRITUAL CANTICLE BETWEEN THE SOUL
i AND CHRIST. a

ay
J é

Bw. «STANZA I.

ESSENTIALLY HIDDEN—THE ONLY BRGOTTEN SON—THR
: PRACKFUL PAIN OF HOPE . . «. «+

STANZA IT.

aa ~ STANZA III.

> a -

= J

. . . . . . . . . .

vi CONTENTS OF

STANZA VI.

THE CREATURE EXCITES LOVE FOR THE CREATOR . . . . .

STANZA VII.

GOD THE DESIRED MESSAGE AND MESSENGER—TESTIMONY OF RATIONAL
CREATURES . * . . * * . * bel . * *

STANZA VIII.
MAS IN TER QUIVER OF LIVR se eg tw Tar Oe

STANZA IX.
COMPLAINT OF THE WOUNDED SOUL—LOVE THE REWARD OF LOVE. .

STANZA X,
THE SOUL SATISFIED BY GOD ALONE—THE UNCREATED LIGHT . ae

STANZA XI.

THE SOUL ASKS TO SEE GOD AND DIE—MAN CANNOT SEE GOD AND LIVE
—DEATH THE FRIEND—THE CURE OF IMPERFECT LOVE . . .

STANZA XIL

THE CRYSTAL FOUNT OF FAITH REFLECTS THE FACE OF GOD-—LOVE
BEGETS LIKENESS AND UNION . . . . . . .

STANZA XIII.
DARK APPROACH TO DIVINE LIGHT—GLANCE OF THE DIVINE EYES—VOICE
OF THE BELOVED . Mabe ONS 1 RS cate ee ee
STANZA XIV.

SONG OF THE BRIDE-SOUL—GOD THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY—HIS VOICE
UPON THE WATERS—THE GENTLE AIR AND THE NIGHT VISION . .

STANZA XV.

CALM MORNING TWILIGHT—UNIVERSAL HYMN OF PRAISE TO GOD—SPI-
RITUAL BANQUET OF LOVE . . . . . . . ‘ :

STANZA XVI.
FOXES IN THE VINEYARD-—THE NOSEGAY OF ROSES—SOLITUDE OF THE
HEART . . . . . . . . . . . .
STANZA XVIL.

THE SUFFERING OF LOVE—NORTH AXD SOUTH WINDS-—-BREATH OF THE
SWEET-SMELLING FLOWERS . . . . .* e . mt

STANZA XIX.

“SUNLIGHT ON THE MOUNTAINS—THE SOUL ASKS FOR PURELY SPIRITUAL
Se a VOOMMOMIOATION WITH GOD. » 2 + (ce. .* se “*. 3

of STANZA XX.
ss THE BRIDEGROOM GUARDS HIS BRIDE—THE SOUL RESTORED TO JUSTICE BY
ee CHRIT—GOD A JOY FOREVER. 0. 8 1 eH ele
oe STANZA XXI.
_——si“‘*PHEB REIGN OF EVERLASTING PRACE - aS ge ae = Dei
; STANZA XXIL
& REJOICING OF THE GOOD SHRPHERD OVER HIS RECOVERED SHEEP—FROM
_-—s PENANCE TO PERFECTION—THE SPIRITUAL MARRIAGE . . 0 ee
i: | STANZA XXIII.
«ss PHE TREES OF PARADISE AND OF CALVARY—THE CROSS OUR SECOND
a MOTHER . a j ; 4 ? - ; - <
ae STANZA XXIV.

BLISS OF THE STATE OF PERFECT UNION WITH GOD—-PERFUME SHED BY
DIVINE FLOWERS— VIRTURS A CROWN AND DEFENCE. . . .

STANZA XXV.

THE SOUL GIVES THANKS FOR GRACES BESTOWED ON OTHERS—RUNNING
IN THE WAY OF LIFE—NEW AND OLD WINE—THE OLD FRIEND OF
60D ~ . * > . * . * > . . . *

STANZA XXVI.

HAPPY STATE OF THE SOUL IN DIVINE LOVE-——PERFECT FRAR, PERFRCT
LOVE—WE MAY KNOW LITTLE AND LOVE MUCH—WISDOM AND FOLLY—
THE SHEPHERD LOSES HIS FLOCK ; ‘ . . . . .

STANZA XXVII.
THR COMMUNION OF GOD AND THE SOUL IN LOVE—MUTUAL AND UNKE-

105

109

116

118

123

126

132

138

147

vill CONTENTS OF

STANZA XXVIII.

THE SOUL CENTRED ON LOVE ITS SOLE OCCUPATION —GOD, AND NOTHING
ELSE . . . . . . . . . . . . *

STANZA XXIX.

LOVE HIGHEST IN IMPORTANCE AND PROFIT—LOSS AND GAIN OF THE SOUL
-——THE BETTER PART—MARY AND MARTHA . . . . . .

STANZA XXX.

FIRST FLOWERS OF SPRING SWEETEST—THE DELIGHT OF THE BRIDE-SOUL
AND CHRIST IN THE POSSESSION OF THE VIRTUES AND GIFTS OF BACH
OTHER—CHRIST CROWNED BY HIS SAINTS BEAUTY AND STRENGTH OF THE
PERFECT SOUL. : . ‘ . . . . . . .

*
STANZA XXXI.
GOD CAPTIVE TO PURE STRONG LOVE—THE THREAD OF LOVE BINDING
TOGETHER GOD AND THE SOUL—POWER OF TRUST IN GOD . » ce

STANZA XXXII.

GRACE THE CAUSE OF MERIT—THE SOUL REFERS ALL TO GOD, AND GIVES
THANKS TO HIM FOR HIS MERCY IN LOOKING LOVINGLY UPON HER .

STANZA XXXIIL

THE SOUL PRAYS FOR THE CONTINUANCE OF THE DIVINE SPIRITUAL UNION—
THE SOUL’S BEAUTY GOD’S GIFT—GOD HONOURS HIS OWN WORK .

STANZA XXXIV.
THE OLIVE BRANCH OF PEACR—THE TWO DOVES . .«. «. . .

STANZA XXXV.
THE DOVE’S NEST , ; : : - f : ; : ‘

STANZA XXXVI.

THE SOUL RIPE FOR HEAVEN--BEAUTY OF GOD IN THE SOUL—INFINITE
DEPTHS OF DIVINE TRUTH . . . . . . . . .

STANZA XXXVII.

TO KNOW GOD IS ETRRNAL LIFR—TRUTH AS IT IS IN JESUS-—-NEW WINE
OF THE POMEGRANATES . . . . : . . . .

STANZA XXXVIII.
LOVE FOR LOVE—DAY OF GOD'S RTERNITY—VICTORY AND CROWN . .

PAGE

151

156

160

167

170

175

179

182

186

191

k STANZA XL.
NG UP BY THE DESERT OF DEATH—ENCAMPMENT BY THE WATERS OF
UFR . . . . . s . . . - . a - 210

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STANZA I. ee
Loe L
SONG OF THE SOUL IN GOD—FIRE KINDLES FIRE . 4 2 ‘ RS

ae A “3

— v3

a

Lie II. %

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‘THE SOUL WOUNDED BY LOVE ‘eS ee ene ii Se Te ee
(G03 THR CENTER OV THB SOUL 26 sll tlw lt | BR
te « b+.
Pe

I EE ee ee eh

STANZA IL

*.. *

: Lise IT.
THE SHRAPH’S DART OF FIRE—THE LIVING ceUCIIX . 3 . 3 . =, 239

-,

Loe ITI.

SUBSTANTIAL TOUCH OF GOD . . . . . «2 « «
Loz IV.

FORETASTE OF EVERLASTING LIFE . . . . «© «© «© -«
Lives V.

VIRTUE ACQUIRED BY SUFFERING—-THE CROSS THE WAY TO GOD . .

Los VI.
DEATH CHANGED INTO LIFE—SONG OF EVERLASTING JOY AND PRAISE .

STANZA ITI.

Liss L

MANY LAMPS, ONE FLAME—-GOD GIVES HIMSELF TO THE SOUL—-WATER OF
WISDOM THE FIRE OF LOVE . . . . . ° : .

.

Line II.

THE SHADOW OF GOD. . . . . . ° . . ’
Linz II.

DEEP CAVERNS OF SPIRITUAL SENSE—-HEAVEN OR HELL—THREE BLIND

GUIDES OF THE SOUL . . . . . . . . . .
Lixg IV.

EYES THAT SEE NOT—DESIRES EFFECT BELIEF . . . . .

Lives V. VI.

GOD GIVEN TO HIMSELF—BEAUTY OF THE SOUL IN GOD. . . .

STANZA IV.

Loves I. IL.

GOD AWAKE IN THE SOUL-—~-THE SOUL AWAKE IN GOD-—-ESTHER BEFORE
ASSUERUS . . . ° ° . . . . . .

Liz ITI.

THE PERFECT SOUL A HOME FOR GOD . . . . ‘ . .

Loves IV. V. VI.
THE BREATHING OF GOD IN THE SOUL . - ; > . . ;

PAGE
241

243
244

251

252

257

261
289

292

296

302

304

INSTRUCTIONS AND CAUTIONS

y.
~

x CONTENTS OF

XII.

TO MOTHER MAGDALEN OF THR HOLY GHOST . : : ; : ‘
XIII.

TO THE LADY JOANNA DE PEDRACA : i : ’ ; F
XIV.

TO MOTHER MARY OF JESUS . . ‘ j > : . P }
XV.

TO MOTHER ANNE OF JESUS . : : . ; : . : :
XVI.

TO MOTHER MARY OF THE INCARNATION ; . fi a . .
XVII.

TO DONA ANNA DE PENALOSA : . 4 ; ; ce 4 .

ADVICE GIVEN BY 8, JOHN OF THE CROSS REGARDING THE SPIRIT AND
METHOD OF PRAYER OF ONE OF THE NUNS OF HIS ORDER . . .

SPIRITUAL MAXIMS.

PROLOGUE . . . . *. . . . . . * .
I,

IMITATION OF CHRIST . ° ° . ° . : . . .
Il.

THE THEOLOGICAL VIRTUES —FAITH . . . . . . .
ITI.

HOPE AND THE FEAR OF GOD . . . . . . . .
IV.

CHARITY— PEACE —LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR . . . . . .
¥.

DISORDERLY APPETITES , . . » . ‘ . . . .

VI.

PRUDENCE—THE ANGELS—A SPIRITUAL DIRECTOR— DIRECTIONS REGARDING
PRAYER * . . . * . . . . . * .

PAGE
333

334

336

337

338

339

341

347

350

352

PRAYER OF THE ENAMOUKED SOUL .

XI.
VOLUNTARY POVERTY—AVARICE—POVERTY OF
XI.

“THE OBSCURR NIGHT OF THR SOUL
A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE BETWEEN THE SOUL AND CHRIST

THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE

A SOUL LONGING FOR THE VISION OF GOD

SONG OF THE SOUL REJOICING IN THE KNOWLEDGE OF GOD BY FAITH
SONG OF CHRIST AND THE SOUL

THE MOST HOLY TRINITY

.

POEMS.

THE SAME SUBJECT .
THE INCARNATION . .

THE DESIRES OF THE HOLY FATHERS

*

PYOALF

ae

;

aka Pe binned pindiie

, ‘, 1h

ae spe ay
*

“Ti, ae wate

A
SPIRITUAL CANTICLE

BETWEEN

THE SOUL AND CHRIST.

PROLOGUE.

As this Canticle seems to have been written in a fervour of love
for God, Whose love and wisdom are so infinite as, in the
words of Scripture, to reach ‘from end to end;’* and as the
soul, under its influence, manifests a somewhat similar force
and amplitude in speaking of it, I do not intend to explain the
grandeur and richness which a mind fruitful in love may find
herein. It would be gross ignorance to think that the out-
pourings of love and of the mystical intelligence—the subject
of these stanzas—could be described by any words of man;
for, as saith the Apostle,t the Spirit of God, Who ‘helpeth our
infirmities,’ dwelling in us, ‘asketh for us with unspeakable
groanings’ what we can neither understand nor compre-
hend. Who then can describe that which He reveals to
those loving souls in whom He dwells? Who can express
in words their feelings and their desires? Assuredly no one,
not even they themselves, who have such experiences. This

is the reason why men hide their feelings beneath figures,

* Wisd. viii. 1. + Rom, yiii, 26,
VOL. U. B
by

The love an
wisdom of

God surpass
expression.

Fitness of
figurative
language.

2 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

PROLOGUE. comparisons, and similitudes, and in the abundance of the
spirit utter mysteries and secrets rather than explain them-
Dispositions selves in intelligible words. And if these similitudes be
student not received in the simplicity of a loving mind, and in the sense
in which they are uttered, they will seem to be effusions of
folly rather than of reason; as any one may see in the Divine
Exampleof Canticle of Solomon, and in others of the Sacred Books,
ef Solomon. wherein the Holy Ghost, because of the incapacity of ordinary
language to convey His meaning, uttered His mysteries in
strange terms and similitudes. It follows from this, that
after all that the holy Doctors have said on the subject, and
indeed after all they may say hereafter, no words can explain
it; words can do little here; and so, in general, all that men
may write falls far short of the matter of which they treat.
The Anthor’ The stanzas that follow having been written under the
influence of that. love which proceeds from the overflowing -
mystical intelligence, cannot for this reason be fully ex-
plained. Indeed I do not purpose any such thing, for my
sole object is to throw some general light over them, which
in my opinion is the better course. It is better to leave the
outpourings of love in their own fulness, that every one may
apply them according to the measure of his spirit and power,
The reader's than to pare them down to one particular sense which is not

"suited to the taste of every one. And though I do put forth
a particular explanation, still others are not to be bound by
it. The Mystical Wisdom —that is, the love, of which these
stanzas speak—does not require to be distinctly understood
in order to produce the effect of love and tenderness in the

= a soul, for it is in this respect like Faith, which enables us to

~ see love God without a clear comprehension of Him.

I shall therefore be very concise, though now and then
unable to avoid some prolixity where the subject requires it,
and when the opportunity is offered of discussing certain
points and effects of prayer: many of which being referred to

= See ee ee ee ee

es

MATTER AND METHOD OF THE WORK. 3

in these stanzas, I must not omit all of them. I shall,
however, pass over the more ordinary ones, and treat briefly
_ of the more extraordinary ones to which they are subject
who, by the mercy of God, have advanced beyond the state
of beginners. This I do for two reasons: the first is, that
much is already written concerning beginners; and the
second is, that I am addressing those who have received
_ from our Lord the grace of being led on from the elementary
state and carried inwards to the bosom of His Divine love.
I therefore trust, though I may discuss some points of the
Scholastic Theology relating to the interior commerce of the
soul with God, that I am not using such language altogether
in vain, and that it will be found profitable for pure
spirituality. For though some may be altogether ignorant
of Scholastic Theology by which the Divine verities are ex-
plained, yet they are not ignorant of Mystical Theology,
the science of love, by which those verities are not only
learned, but at the same time relished also.

And in order that what Iam going to say may be the
better received, submitting myself to higher judgments, and

PROLOGUE.

for treating
of the more
unusual
states of
prayer,

unreservedly to that of our holy mother the Church, I intend °°"

to say nothing in reliance on my own personal experience, nor
on what I have observed in other spiritual persons, nor on what
I have heard them say—though I intend to profit by all this
—unless I can confirm it with the sanction of the Divine
Writings, at least on those points which are the most
difficult of comprehension. The method I propose to follow
in the matter is, first of all, to cite the express words of Scrip-
ture, and then to give that explanation of them which belongs
to the subject before me. I shall now transcribe all the
stanzas, and place them at the beginning of this treatise.
In the next place I shall take each of them separately, and
_ explain them line by line, each line in its proper place,

DIALOGUE,
Prayer and

Earnest
Longing.

Courage and
Resolution.

A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE SOUL AND CHRIST. ,
I f
THE BRIDE.
Where hast Thou hidden Thyself?
Why hast Thou forsaken me in my groaning, O my
Beloved ?
Thou didst fly like the hart, away,
When Thou hadst wounded me.
I ran after Thee, crying; but Thou wert gone.

I +

O shepherds, you who go

Through the sheepcots up the hill,

If you shall see Him

Whom I love,

Tell Him I languish, agonize, and die.

111
In search of my Love
I will traverse mountains and strands ;
I will gather no flowers,
I will fear no wild beasts ;
And I will overpass the mighty and the frontiers.

IV
Ye groves and thickets
Planted by the hand of the Beloved ;
Ye verdant meads
Enamelled with flowers ;
Tell me, has He passed by you?

Vv
ANSWER OF THE CREATURES.

A thousand graces diffusing
He passed through the groves in haste,
And beholding them only

As He passed,
He clothed them with His beauty.

“

THE BRIDE.

O who can heal me?

Give me perfectly Thyself,

Send me no more

A messenger

Who cannot tell me what I seek.

vil

All they who serve

Relate a thousand graces of Thee ;
And all wound me more and more,
And they leave me dying,

While they babble I know not what.

vill

But how thou perseverest, O life

Not living where thou livest ;

The arrows bring death

Which thou receivest

From thy conceptions of the Beloved.

1x

Why, after wounding

This heart, hast Thou not healed it ?

And why, after stealing it,

Hast Thou thus abandoned it,

And not carried away what Thou hast stolen?

x

Quench Thou my troubles,

For none else can do so ;

And let mine eyes behold Thee

Who art their light,

And it is for Thee alone I would use them.

A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

XI

Reveal Thy presence,

And let the vision of Thy beauty kill me.
Behold, the disease 7
Of love is incurable

Except in Thy presence and in the light of Thy

countenance,

_

XII

O Fount of crystal !
O that on Thy silvered surface _
Thou wouldest mirror forth at once

Those eyes desirable
Which I have in my heart delineated !

XIII

Turn them away, O my Beloyed !
I fly away.

THE BRIDEGROOM.

Return, My Dove!

The wounded hart

Looms on the hill

In the air of thy flight and is refreshed.

XIV
THE BRIDE.

My Beloved is the mountains,
The solitary wooded valleys,

The strange islands,

The roaring torrents,

The whisper of the amorous gales;

XV

The tranquil night

At the approaches of the dawn,

The silent music,

The murmuring solitude, =

The supper which revives, and enkindles love,

For our vineyard hath flourished ;
While of roses

We make a nosegay,

And let no one appear on the hill.

XVII

Cease, O thou killing north wind !

Come, O south wind, thou that awakenest love !
Blow through my garden,

And let its odours flow,

And my Beloved shall feed among the flowers.

XVII

O nymphs ofJudea !

While amid the flowers and the rose-trees
The amber sends forth its perfume,

Tarry in the suburbs,

And touch not my threshold.

XIX

Hide Thyself, O my Beloved!

Let Thy face shine on the mountains.
Do not tell it,

But regard the companions

Of her who traverses strange islands.

xx

THE BRIDEGROOM.
Light-winged birds,
Lions, fawns, bounding deer,
Mountains, valleys, strands,
Waters, winds, fires,
And the terrors that keep watch by night;

DIALOGUE.

Nuptials.

>»?

A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

XXI

By the soft lyres

And the siren strains, I adjure you,
Let your fury cease,

And touch not the wall,

That the Bride may sleep in peace.

XXII

The Bride has entered

The pleasant and desirable garden,

And there reposes to her heart’s content ;
Her neck reclining

On the sweet arms of her Beloved.

XXII

Beneath the apple-tree

I éspoused thee :

There I gave thee My hand,

And thou wert there redeemed
Where thy mother was corrupted.

XXIV
THE BRIDE,

Our bed is of flowers

By the dens of lions encompassed,
Hung with purple,

Made in peace,

And crowned with a thousand shields of gold.

XXV

In Thy footsteps

The young ones run Thy way ;
At the touch of the fire,

And by the spiced wine,

The Divine balsam flows.

In the inmost cellar

Of my Beloved have I drunk; and when I went forth
Over all the plain

I knew nothing,

And lost the flock I followed before.

XXVII

There He gave me His breasts,

There He taught me the science full of sweetness.
And there I gave to Him

Myself without reserve ;

There I promised to be His Bride.

XXVIII

My soul is occupied,

And all my substance in His service ;
Now I guard no flock,

Nor have I any other employment :
My sole occupation is love.

XXIX

If, then, on the common

I am no longer seen or found,
Say that I am lost ;

That, being enamoured,.

I lost myself; and yet I gained.

XXX

Of emeralds, and of flowers

In the early morning culled,

We will make the garlands,

Flowering in Thy love,

And bound together with one hair of my head.

hgehss

DIALOGUE.

10

XXXI

By that one hair

Thou hast observed fluttering on my neck,
And hast regarded on my neck,

Thou wert captivated ;

And wounded by one of my eyes.

XXXII

When Thou didst regard me,

Thine eyes imprinted Thy grace in me:
For this didst Thou love me again,
And thereby mine eyes did merit

To adore what in Thee they saw.

XXXIII

Despise me not,

For if I was swarthy once

Thou canst regard me now ;

Since Thou hast regarded me,

Grace and beauty hast Thou given me.

XXXIV
THE BRIDEGROOM.

The little white dove
Has returned to the ark with the bough ;
And now the turtle-dove

Her desired mate
On the green banks has found.

XXXV

In solitude she lived,

And in solitude built her nest ;

And in solitude, alone

Hath the Beloved guided her, —

In solitude also wounded with her love.

ee i ee, ee i iii

THE BRIDE.
Let us rejoice, O my Beloved!
Let us go forth to see ourselves in Thy beauty,
To the mountain and the hill,
Where the pure water flows;
Let us enter into the heart of the thicket.

i |

XXXVII
We shall go at once
To the lofty caverns of the rocks
Which are all secret,
There we shall enter in
And taste of the new wine of the pomegranate.

XXXVITI

There Thou wilt show me

What my soul desired ;

And there Thou wilt give at once,

O Thou, my life!

What Thou gavest me the other day,

XXXIX

The breathing of the air,

The song of the sweet nightingale,

The grove and its beauty

In the serene night,

With the fire that consumes, but without pain.

XL
None saw it;

Neither did Aminadab appear.
The siege was intermitted,
And the cavalry dismounted
At the vision of the waters.

12 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

ARGUMENT.

These stanzas describe the career of the soul from its
first entrance on the service of God till it comes to the final
state of perfection—the spiritual marriage. They refer to
the three conditions of the spiritual life—the Purgative, Ilu-
minative, and Unitive ways; some properties or effects of
which they explain.

The first part relates to beginners—to the purgative way.
The second to the advanced—to the state of spiritual espousal,
that is, the illuminative way. The next part relates to the

unitive way—that of the perfect, where the spiritual marriage

is brought to pass. The unitive way, or that of the perfect,
follows the illuminative, which is that of the advanced. The
last stanzas treat of the beatific state, which only the already
perfect soul aims at.

EXPLANATION OF THE STANZAS.
INTRODUCTION.

The soul, considering the obligations of its state, seeing
that ‘the days of man are short ;’* that the way of eternal
life is strait;t that ‘the just man shall scarcely be saved ;*t
that the things of this world are empty and deceitful; that
all die and perish like water poured on the ground;§ that
time is uncertain, the last account strict, perdition most easy,
and salvation most difficult: and recognising also, on the
other hand, the great debt that is owing to God, Who has
created it solely for Himself, for which the service of its
whole life is due, Who has redeemed it for Himself alone, for

* Job xiv. 5. + S. Matth. vii, 14,
{ 18, Pet. iv. 18. § 2 Kings xiv. 14.

GOD ESSENTIALLY HIDDEN. 13

_ which it owes Him all else, and the correspondence of its will stanza
to His love; and remembering other innumerable blessings —
for which it acknowledges itself indebted to God even before
it was born: and also that a great part of its life has been ndsorrow.
wasted, and that it will have to render an account of it all
from the beginning unto the end, to the repayment of ‘ the
last farthing,’* when God shall ‘search Jerusalem with
lamps ;’ ¢ that it is already late, and perhaps the end of the
day: in order to remedy so great an evil, especially when it is
conscious that God is grievously offended, and that He has
hidden His face from it, because it would forget Him for the
creature, the soul, now touched with sorroy and inward sink-
ing of the heart at the sight of its imminent risks and ruin,
renouncing everything and casting them aside without de-
laying for a day, or even an hour, with fear and groanings
uttered from the heart, and wounded with the love of God,
invokes the Beloved and says:
STANZA I.
THE BRIDE.

Where hast Thou hidden Thyself ?

Why hast Thou forsaken me in my groaning, O my Beloved?

Thou didst fly like the hart, away,

When Thou hadst wounded me.

Iran after Thee, crying ; but Thou wert gone.

EXPLANATION.

Here the soul, enamoured of the Word, the Son of God, the The sout
Bridegroom, desiring to be united to Him in the clear and wk Chir
substantial vision, sets before Him the anxieties of its love,
complaining of His absence. And this the more so because,
now pierced and wounded with love, for which it had aban-
doned all things, even itself, it has still to endure His absence,
unreleased from the burden of the flesh, unable to enjoy Him
in the glory of eternity. Hence it cries out, ‘ Where hast
Thou hidden Thyself?’ .

* S, Matth. v. 26, t Sophon. i. 12.

14 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

It is as if the soul said, Show me, O thou Word, my Bride-

—— groom, the place where Thou art hidden. It asks for the

revelation of the Divine Essence; for the place where the Son

et of God is hidden is, according to S. John, ‘ the bosom of the

Father,’ * the Divine Essence, transcending all mortal vision,
and concealed from all human understanding, as the Prophet
saith, * Verily Thou art a hidden God.’ t Remember, then,
that the communications and sense of His presence, how-
ever great they may be, and the most sublime and profound
conceptions of God which the soul may have in this life, are
not God essentially, neither have they any affinity with Him,
for in very truth He is still hidden from the soul; and it is
therefore expedient for it, amid all these grandeurs, always to
consider Him as hidden, and to seek Him in His hiding
place, saying, ‘ Where hast Thou hidden Thyself?’

Neither sublime communications nor sensible devotion
furnish any certain proof of His gracious presence; nor is the
absence thereof, and aridity any proof of His absence from the
soul. ‘If Hecome to me, I shall not see Him; if He depart,
I shall not understand.’ { That is, if the soul have any great
communication, or impression, or spiritual knowledge, it
must not on that account persuade itself that what it then
feels is to enjoy or see God clearly and in His Essence, or
that it brings it nearer to Him, or Him to it, however deep
such feelings may be. On the other hand, when all these
sensible and spiritual communications fail it, when it is itself
dried up, obscured, and abandoned, it must not on that
account suppose that God is far from it; for in truth the pre-
sence of these things is no sign of its being in a state of grace,
nor is the absence thereof a sign that it is not; for ‘man
knoweth not whether he be worthy of love or hatred.’ §

* §. John i. 18, t Is. xlv. 15.
} Job, ix, 11. § Eccles, ix. 1.

—
atl -.

ATE OS I Te a SD,

THE ONLY-BEGOTTEN SON. 15

The chief object of the soul here is not only to ask for that
affective and sensible devotion, wherein there is no certainty
or evidence of the possession of the Bridegroom in this life;
but principally for that clear presence and vision of His
Essence, of which it longs to be assured and satisfied in the
next. This, too, was the object of the Bride who, desiring to
be united to the Divinity of the Bridegroom Word, prayed to
the Father, saying, ‘Show me where Thou feedest, where
Thou liest in the midday.’* To ask to be shown the place
where He fed was to ask to be shown the Essence of the
Divine Word, the Son; for the Father feedeth nowhere else
but in His only begotten Son, Who is the glory of the Father.
In asking to be shown the place where He lay in the midday,
she asked the same thing, for the Son is the sole delight of
the Father, Who lieth in no other place, and is comprehended
by no other thing, but in and by His beloved Son, in Whom
He reposeth wholly, communicating to Him His whole
Essence. The ‘ midday’ is eternity, where the Father is ever
begetting and the Son ever begotten.

This pasture, then, is the Bridegroom Word, where the
Father feedeth in infinite glory. He is also the bed of flowers
whereon He profoundly reposes with infinite delight of love,
and hidden from all mortal vision and every created thing.
This is the meaning of the Bride-soul when she says, ‘ Where
hast Thou hidden Thyself?’

That the thirsty soul may find the Bridegroom, and be united
to Him in this life—so far as that is possible—and quench
its thirst with that drink which it is possible to drink of at His
hands in this life, it will be as well—since that is what the
soul asks of Him—that we should answer for Him, and point
out the special spot where He is hidden, that He may be
found there in that perfection and sweetness, of which this
life is capable, and that the soul may not loiter uselessly in

* Cant. i. 6,

_ ZA

God hidden
in the soul.

16 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

the footsteps of its companions. Remember, therefore, that
the Word, the Son of God, together with the Father and the
Holy Ghost, is hidden in essence and in presence, in the
inmost being of the soul. That soul, therefore, that will
find Him, must go out from all things in will and affection,
and enter into the profoundest self-recollection, and all things
must be to it as if they existed not. Hence, S. Augustine
saith: ‘I found Thee not without, O Lord, I sought Thee

_ without in vain, for Thou art within.’* God is therefore

hidden within the soul, and the true contemplative will seek
Him there in love, saying, ‘ Where hast Thou hidden Thy-
self?’ j

O thou soul, most beautiful of creatures, who so earnestly
longest to know the place where thy Beloved is, that thou

~ sayest seek Him, and be united to Him! Thou art thyself

Joy of being
close to God,

that very tabernacle where He dwells, the secret chamber
of His retreat where He is hidden. Rejoice, therefore, and
exult, because all thy good and all thy hope is so near thee
as to be within thee; yea, rather rejoice that thou canst not be
without it, ‘ for lo, the kingdom of God is within you.’ f So
saith the Bridegroom Himself, and His servant, S. Paul,
adds: * You are the temple of the living God.’ } What joy
for the soul to learn that God never abandons it even in
mortal sin, how much less ina state of grace?§ What more
canst thou desire, what more canst thou seek without,
seeing that within thou hast thy riches, thy delight, thy
satisfaction, thy fulness and thy kingdom, that is, thy
Beloved whom thou desirest and seekest. Rejoice then,
and be glad with interior recollection, seeing that thou hast
Him so near. Then love Him, then desire Him, then adore
Him, and go not out of thyself, for that will be but distraction
and weariness, and thou shalt not find Him; because there is
no fruition of Him more certain, more ready, or more near,

* Soliloq. c. 31. Opp. Ed. Ben. tom. vi. app. p. 98.
+ 8. Luke xvii. 21. t 2 Cor. vi. 16. § Mt. Carmel, Bk. 2, c. 5.

a i” :
oe yall =
gla

THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 17

than that which is within. One difficulty alone remains:
though He is within, yet He is hidden. But it is a great
matter to know the place of His secret rest, that He may then
be searched after the more certainly. The knowledge of
this is what thou askest for, O soul, when with loving affection
thou criest : ‘ Where hast Thou hidden Thyself?’

You will still urge and say, How comes it, then, that
I find Him not, if He is within my soul? How comes
it that I do not feel His presence? It is because He is
hidden, and because thou also hidest not thyself that
thou mayest find Him and feel Him; for he that will seek
that which is hidden must enter secretly into the secret
place where it is hidden, and when he finds it, he is himself
hidden like the object of his search. Seeing, then, that the
Bridegroom whom thou lovest is ‘ the treasure hidden in the
field’ * of thy soul, for which the wise merchant gave all
that he had, so thou, if thou will find Him, must forget all
that is thine, withdraw from all created things, and hide thy-
self in the secret retreat of the spirit, shutting the door upon
thyself—that is, denying thy will in all things—and praying
to thy Father in secret.t Then thou wilt be conscious of
His presence, and love Him; then wilt thou enjoy Him in
secret, and delight in Him in secret, in a way that no tongue
or language can express. Courage, then, O soul most beau-
tiful, thou knowest now that thy Beloved, whom thou desirest,
dwelleth hidden within thy breast; strive, therefore, to be
hidden with Him, and then thou shalt embrace Him, and be
conscious of His presence with loving affection. Consider
also that He invites thee Himself to His secret hiding-place,
saying, ‘Go, enter into thy chambers, shut thy doors upon
thee ;’ that is, all thy faculties, so that no created thing shall
enter: ‘hide thyself a little for a moment,’ { that is, for the

* S. Matth. xiii. 44. t Ib. vi. 6. t Is. xvvi. 20.
VOL. II. ©

ii He ZA

18 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

time of this mortal life; for, if now during this brief interval,

——— thou wilt ‘ with all watchfulness keep thy heart,’ * God will

How and

where God is

seen in this
life,

most assuredly give thee, as He hath promised by His pro-

_ phet, ‘ the hidden treasures and the concealed riches of secret
| places. >+ The substance of these concealed riches is God

| Himself, for He is the substance of faith, and faith is the

" secret and the mystery. And when that which faith conceals
- shall be revealed, or, as the Apostle saith, ‘ When that which

is perfect is come,’ ¢ then shall be revealed to the soul the
substance and mysteries of these secrets.

Though in this mortal life the soul will never reach to the
interior secrets as it will in the next, however much it may
hide itself, still, if it will hide itself with Moses, ‘in the hole
of the rock ’—which is a real imitation of the perfect life of the
Bridegroom, the Son of God—protected by the right hand of
God, it will merit the vision of the ‘ back parts;’§ that is,
it will reach to such perfection here, as to be united with, and
transformed in, the Son of God, the Bridegroom, by love.
So effectually will this be wrought that the soul will feel itself
so united to Him, so learned and so instructed in His secrets,
that, so far as the knowledge of Him in this life is concerned,
it will be no longer necessary for it to say: ‘ Where hast Thou
hidden Thyself?’

Thou knowest then, O soul, how thou art to demean
thyself if thou wilt find the Bridegroom in his secret place.
But if thou wilt hear it again, hear this one word full of sub-
stance and unapproachable truth : Seek Him in faith and love,
without seeking to satisfy thyself in aught, or to understand
more than is expedient for thee to know; faith and love are
the two guides of the blind, they will lead thee by a way thou
knowest not to the secret chamber of God. Faith, the secret

* Proy. iv. 23. + Is, xlv. 3.
t 1 Cor. xiii. 10. § Exod. xxxiii, 22, 23.

——_— = -— . *

ae a ee, ve , eo. Eye eee Se

‘on PA pa , Poa! VI eb, N. 19

*

of which I am speaking, is the foot that journeys onwards to
God, and love is the guide pointing out the way. And while
the soul meditates on the mysterious secrets of faith, it will
merit the revelation, on the part of love, of that which faith
involves, namely, the Bridegroom whom it longs for, in this
life by spiritual grace and the Divine union, and in the next
in essential glory, face to face, when He can be no longer
hidden.

In the meanwhile, however, though the soul attains to
union, the highest estate possible in this life, yet inasmuch as
He is still hidden from the soul in the bosom of the Father,
the soul longing for Him in the life to come, ever cries:
‘Where hast Thou hidden Thyself?’

_ Thou doest well, then, O soul, in seeking Him always in
His secret place; for thou greatly magnifiest God, and
drawest near unto Him, esteeming Him as far beyond all
thou canst reach. Rest not, therefore, neither wholly nor in
part, on what thy faculties can embrace; never seek to satisfy
thyself with what thou comprehendest in God, but rather with
what thou comprehendest not; and do not rest on the love of
that which thou canst understand and feel, but rather on that
which is beyond thy understanding and feeling: this is to
seek Him by faith. God is inaccessible and hidden, and
though it may seem that thou hast found Him, felt Him, and
comprehended Him, yet thou must ever regard Him as
hidden, serve Him as hidden in secret. Be not thou like the
unwise, who, with low views of God, think that when they
_ cannot comprehend Him, or be conscious of His presence,

that He is then farther away and more hidden—when the
4 contrary is true, namely, that He is nearer to them when they
_ are least aware of it; as it is written, ‘He made darkness
his covert.’* Thus, when thou art near unto Him, the very

* Ps. xvii. 12.
c2

STANZA

Faith and
love surpass
understand-
ing and
feoling.

—

God must be
appreciated
and loved
above all
things.

Love obtains
all things.

discern the
true lovers of
God,—what.

20 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE,

infirmity of thy vision makes the obscurity palpable; thou
doest well, therefore, at all times, in prosperity as well as in
adversity, spiritual or temporal, to look upon God as hidden,
and to say unto Him, ‘ Where hast Thou hidden Thyself ?’

‘Why hast thou forsaken me in my groaning, O my
Beloved?’ The soul calls Him ‘my Beloved,’ the more to
move Him to listen to its cry, for God most readily listens to
the voice of him who loves Him. Thus He speaks Himself:
‘If you abide in Me . . . you shall ask whatever you
will, and it shall be done to you.’* The soul may then call
Him Beloved, when it is wholly His, when the heart has no
attachments but Him, and when all the thoughts are con-
tinually directed to Him. It was the absence of this that
Dalila’observed in Samson when she said, ‘ How dost thou say
thou lovest me when thy mind is not with me?’t The mind
comprises the thoughts and the feelings. Some there are
who call the Bridegroom their Beloved, but He is not really
beloved, because their heart is not wholly with Him. Their
prayers are, therefore, not effectual before God, and they
shall not obtain their petitions until, persevering in prayer,
they fix their minds upon God and their hearts wholly in
loving affection upon Him, for nothing can be obtained from
God but by love.

‘ Why hast Thou forsaken me in my groaning ?’ implies that
the absence of the Beloved is the cause of continual sadness
in him who loves; for as such an one loves none else, so, in
the absence of the object beloved, nothing can console or
relieve him. This is, therefore, a test to discern the true
lovers of God. Are they satisfied with anything less than
God? Do I say content? Yea, if a man possess all things
he cannot be content,—the greater his possessions the less
will be his contentment, for the heart cannot be satisfied with

* §. John xv. 7. +t Judg. xvi. 15.

—— “ . ‘ -
‘. ve! ~~ ra ,

THE PEACEFUL PAIN OF HOPE. 21

possessions, but rather in detachment from all things and in
poverty of spirit. And as the perfection of love wherewith
we have the fruition of God consists in this poverty, the soul
lives therein with a special grace in this life, when it has
attained to it with a certain contentment, but not satiety ;
for David, notwithstanding all his perfection, hoped for that
in Heaven, saying, ‘I shall be satisfied when Thy glory shall
appear.’ *

Thus, then, the peace and tranquillity, and the satisfaction
of the heart, to which the soul may attain in this life, are not
sufficient to relieve it from its interior groaning— peaceful
and painless though it be, while it hopes for that which is
still wanting. Groaning belongs to hope, as the Apostle
teaches us, saying, ‘Ourselves also, who have the first-fruits

of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves,

waiting for the adoption of the sons of God.’f The soul
groans whose heart is enamoured, for where love wounds
there is heard the groaning of the wounded one, com-
plaining feelingly of the absence of the Beloved, especially
when, after tasting of the sweet converse of the Bridegroom,
it finds itself alone, in sudden aridity.

In this state it cries out, ‘Thou hast fled like the hart,
away, comparing Him to a roe or a young hart: ‘ My Be-
loved is like a roe or a young hart.’ { This comparison ex-
tends not only to His being like a stranger, solitary and
shunning company, as the hart, but also to His rapid hiding
and revealing of Himself in His visits to devout souls for the
purpose of comfort and encouragement, and in His retiring
from them for their trial, humiliation, and instruction. In
consequence of this, His absence is most keenly felt, as it
appears from the words which follow :

*When Thou hadst wounded me.’ It is as if it said, It

* Ps. xvi. 15. + Rom. viii. 23. t Cant. ii. 9.

STANZA

22 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

was not enough that I should feel the pain and grief which
Thy absence causes, and from which I am continually suf-
fering, but Thou must, after wounding me with the arrow of
Thy love, and increasing my sufferings, run away from me
with the swiftness of the hart, and not permit me to embrace

Thee, even for a moment.

For the clearer understanding of this expression we are to

and keep in mind that, beside the many kinds of God’s visits

to the soul, in which He wounds it with love, there are
certain secret touches of love, which, like a fiery arrow, pierce
and penetrate the soul, and kindle it with the fire of love.
These are properly called the wounds of love, and it is of
these the soul is here speaking. These wounds inflame
the will, and the soul becomes so enveloped with fire as to
appear consumed thereby, They make it go forth out of
itself, and be renewed, transformed into another mode of ex-
istence, like the phoenix from the fire. David, speaking of this,
saith, ‘ My heart hath been inflamed,and my reins have been
changed; and I am brought to nothing, and I knew not.’*
The desires and affections, called the reins by the Prophet,
are all stirred and divinely changed in this burning of
the heart, and the soul, through love, melts into nothing,
knowing nothing but love. And now the changing of the
reins is a great pain, and longing for the Vision of God, and it
seems to the soul that God treats it with intolerable severity,
not because He has wounded it—for that it considers to be its
salvation—but because He leaves it in the pangs of love,
because He has not wounded it to the quick so as to cause
death, that it may be united to Him in the life of perfect
love. The soul, therefore, magnifying its sorrows, or re-
vealing them, says, ‘ When Thou hadst wounded me.’

The soul says in effect, Thou hast abandoned me after

* Ps, lxxii, 21, 22.

DESIDERIUM VIDENTEM VIDENDI. 23

wounding me, and Thou hast left me dying of love; and
then Thou hast hidden Thyself as a hart swiftly running away.
This impression is most profound in the soul; for by the
wound of love the affections of the will lead most rapidly to
the possession of the Beloved, whose touch it felt, and in the
same degree also, His absence. And now the soul cannot
have the fruition of Him as it desired. Thereupon succeed
the sighs because of His absence ; for these visitations of God
are not like those which recreate and satisfy the soul, but
they are rather for wounding than for healing—more for
afflicting than for satisfying it, seeing that they tend rather
to quicken the knowledge, and increase the desire, and con-
sequently pain, and the longing for the Vision of God.
They are called the spiritual wounds of love, most sweet to
the soul and desirable ; and therefore when it is thus wounded
the soul would willingly die a thousand deaths, because these
wounds make it go forth out of itself, and enter into God,
which is the meaning of the words that follow:

‘I ran after Thee, erying; but Thou wert gone.’ There is
no remedy for the wounds of love but from Him who inflicted
them. And so the soul, urged by the vehemence of that
burning which the wounds of love occasion, ran after the
Beloved, crying unto Him for relief. This spiritual running

after God has a twofold meaning. The first is a going forth 1.

out of all created things, hating and despising them; the
second, a going forth out of oneself, self-forgetting, for the
love of God. For when the love of God touches the soul
with that vividness of which we are speaking, it so elevates
it, that it goes forth not only out of itself in self-forgetfulness,
but is also drawn away from its own judgment, natural ways,
and inclinations, crying after God. O my Spouse, it seems to
say, by this touch of Thine and wound of love hast Thou
drawn me away not only from all created things, but also
from myself—for, in truth, soul and body seem now to part—

STANZA

2. Self.

‘oie “oe

24 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

and raised me up to Thyself, crying after Thee in detachment

———— from all things that I might be attached to Thee.

Painful sense
of the absence
of God,

‘Thou wert gone.’ That is, when I sought to embrace
Thee, I found Thee not; and I was detached from all things
without being able to cling to Thee—borne painfully by the
gales of love without help in Thee or in myself. This going
forth of the soul in search of the Beloved is the rising of the
Bride in the Canticle: ‘I will rise and go about the city; in
the streets and the broad ways I will seek Him whom my
soul loveth. I sought Him and I found Him not.’* The
rising of the Bride-soul—speaking spiritually—is from that
which is mean to that which is noble; and is the same with
the going forth of the soul out of its own ways and inferior
love to the ennobling love of God. The Bride says that she
was wounded because she found Him not;f so the soul also
says of itself that it is wounded with love and forsaken ; that
is, the loving soul is ever in pain during the absence of the
Beloved, because it has given itself up wholly unto Him,
hoping for the reward of its self-surrender, the possession of
the Beloved; still the Beloved withholds Himself while the
soul has lost all things, and even itself, for Him; it obtains
no compensation for its loss, seeing that it is deprived of Him
whom it loveth.

This painfulness, this sense of the absence of God, is wont
to be so oppressive in those who are going onwards to the
state of perfection, that they would die if God did not in-
terpose when the Divine wounds are inflicted upon them.
As they have the palate of the will wholesome, and the mind
pure and disposed for God, and as they taste in some degree
of the sweetness of Divine love, which they supremely desire,
so they also suffer pain supremely; for having but a glimpse
of an infinite good which they are not permitted to enjoy,
that is to them an ineffable pain and torment.

* Cant. iii. 2. + Ib. v. 6, 7.

-— eee er , am ane’ at ae

MESSENGERS OF THE WOUNDED SOUL. 25

STANZA II.

O shepherds, you who go
Through the sheepcots up the hill,
If you shall see

Him whom I love,

Tell Him I languish, agonize, and die,

EXPLANATION,

Tue soul would nowemploy intercessors and mediators between
itself and the Beloved, praying them to make its sufferings
and afflictions known. One in love, when he cannot converse
personally with the object of his love, will do so in the best
way he can. Thus the soul employs its affections, desires, and
groanings as messengers well able to manifest the secret of
its heart to the Beloved. Accordingly, it calls upon them to
do this, saying: ‘ O shepherds, you who go.’

The shepherds are the affections, and desires, and groanings
of the soul, for they feed it with spiritual good things. A

shepherd is one who feeds: and by means of such God com- #

municates Himself to the soul and feeds it in the Divine
pastures; for without these groans and desires He communi-
cates but slightly with it. ‘You who go,’ you who go forth
from pure love; for all desires and affections do not reach
God, but only those which proceed from sincere love.

‘ Through the sheepcots up the hill.” The sheepcots are
the heavenly hierarchies, the angelic choirs, by whose ministry,

q from choir to choir, our prayers and sighs ascend to God;

that is, to the ‘hill’ for He is the highest eminence, and
because in Him, as on a hill, we observe and behold all things,
_ the higher and the lower sheepcots. To him our prayers
ascend, offered up by Angels, as the Angel said to Tobias :
-* When thou didst pray with tears, and didst bury the dead
. . .« I offered thy prayer to the Lord.’ *

* Tob, xii, 12,

pe 5

Pure love on
— feeds
and in

eaven
pleads for it,

STANZA
I.

Pastoral
office of the
Angels.

answered
due time.

examples.

26 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

The shepherds are also the Angels themselves, who not only
carry our petitions to God, but also bring down the graces of
God to our souls, feeding them like good shepherds with the
sweet communications and inspirations of God, Who employs
them in that ministry. They also protect us and defend us
against the wolves, which are the evil spirits. And thus,
whether we understand the affections or the Angels by the
shepherds, the soul calls upon them both to be its messengers
to the Beloved, and thus addresses them all: ‘If you shall
see Him.’

‘If you shall see Him:’ if, to my great happiness, you shall
come into His presence, so that He shall see you and hear
your words. God, indeed, knoweth all things, even the very
thoughts of the heart, as He said unto Moses,* but then it is
that He beholds our necessities when He relieves them, and
hears our prayers when He grants them. God does not see
all necessities and hear all petitions until the time appointed
shall come; then we say that He hears and sees them, as in
the case of the children of Israel, who after four hundred
years of misery were heard: ‘I have seen,’ saith He, ‘the
affliction of my people in Egypt, and I have heard their ery,
and . . . Iam come down to deliver them.’t And yet
He had seen it always. So also the Angel Gabriel bade
Zacharias not to fear, because God had heard his prayer, and °
granted him a son, for which he had prayed many years; t yet
God had always heard him. Remember, therefore, that God,
though He does not at once grant our petitions, will still
succour us in His own time, for He is ‘a helper in due time
in tribulation, § if we do not become fainthearted and cease
to pray. This is what the soul means by saying, ‘If you
shall see Him,’ if the time is come when it shall be His good
pleasure to grant my petitions.

* Deut, xxxi. 21. + Exod. iii. 7, 8.
} S. Luke i. 13. § Ps. ix. 10.

THE MESSAGE OF LOVE. 27

*Whom I love:’ that is, whom I love more than all creatures,
This is true of the soul when nothing is able to frighten it
away from His service. And when the soul can truly say
what follows; that is a sign that it loves Him above all
things : |

‘Tell Him I languish, agonize, and die.’ These are three
necessities of the soul: namely, languor, agony, and death,
for the soul that truly loves God with a love in some degree
perfect, suffers threefold in His absence in the three powers—
the intellect, the will, and the memory. In the intellect it
languishes because it does not see God, Who is the salvation
of it, as the Psalmist saith: ‘I am thy salvation.’* In the
will it agonizes, because it possesses not God, Who is its com-
fort and delight, as it is written: ‘Thou shalt make them
drink of the torrent of Thy pleasure.’t In the memory it
dies, because it remembers its privation of all the goods of
the intellect, which are the Vision of God, and of the delights
of the will, which are the fruition of Him, and that it is very
possible also that it may lose Him for ever, because of the
dangers and chances of this life. In the memory, therefore,
the soul labours under a sensation like that of death, because
it sees itself without the certain and perfect fruition of God,

Who is the life of the soul, as it is written, ‘ He is thy life.’ t
. Jeremias also speaks of these three necessities, praying
unto God, and saying: ‘ Remember my poverty . . . the

STANZA

wormwood and the gall.’§ Poverty relates to the intellect, to ¢"™*

which appertain the riches of the knowledge of the Son of
God,’ in Whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and
knowledge.’ || The wormwood, which is a most bitter herb,
relates to the will, to which appertains the sweetness of the
fruition of God, deprived of which it abides in bitterness.
We learn in the Apocalypse that bitterness appertains spiri-

* Pa, xxxiv. 3.
§ Lam. iii, 19.

+ Ib, xxxv. 9. t Deut. xxx. 20.

|| Coloss, ii. 3.

STANZA
Il.

We pray best
when we
simply state
our case,

Two
examples,

Three
reasons,

Christ the
sole Salva-
tion, Joy,
and Life.

23 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

tually to the will, for the Angel said to S. John: ‘Take the
book and eat it up; and it shall make thy belly bitter. *
Here the belly signifies the will. The gall relates not only to
the memory, but also to al] the powers and faculties of the
soul, for it signifies the death thereof, as we learn from Moses
speaking of the damned: ‘ Their wine is the gall of dragons,
and the venom of asps, which is incurable.’ t This signifies
the loss of God, which is the death of the soul.

These three necessities of the soul are grounded on the
three theological virtues, faith, charity, and hope, which relate,
in the order here assigned them, to the three faculties of
the soul—intellect, will, and memory. Observe here that the
soul does no more than represent its necessities to the Beloved:
for he who loves wisely is not anxious to ask for that which
he wants and desires, being satisfied with hinting at his neces-
sities, so that the Beloved may do what shall to Him seem
good. Thus the Blessed Virgin at the marriage feast of Cana
asked not directly for wine, but only said to her Beloved Son,
‘They have no wine.’ t The sisters of Lazarus sent to Him,
not to ask Him to heal their brother, but only to say that he
whom He loved was sick: ‘ Lord, behold, he whom Thou
lovest is sick.’ § There are three reasons for this. Our Lord

knows what is expedient for us better than we do ourselves. —

Secondly, the Beloved is more compassionate towards us when
He sees our necessities and our resignation. Thirdly, we are
more secured against self-love and self-seeking when we
simply represent our necessity, than when we ask for that
which we think we need. It is in this way that the soul
represents its three necessities; as if it said: Tell my
Beloved, that as I languish, and as He is my sole salvation, to
help me; that as I am agonizing, and as He is my sole joy,
to give me joy; thatas I am dying, and as He is my sole life,
to give me life,

* Apoc.x.9. ft Deut. xxxii. 33. $S.Johnii. 3. § Ib. xi. 3.

-
EE

STANZA III.

In search of my Love,

I will traverse mountains and strands ;

I will gather no flowers,

I will fear no wild beasts ;

And I will overpass the mighty and the frontiers,

EXPLANATION.

Tue soul, observing that its sighs and prayers are not enough
for finding the Beloved, and that it has not been assisted
either by the messengers it invoked in the first and second
stanzas, will not, because its searching is real and its love great,
leave undone anything itself can do. The soul that really
loves God is not dilatory in its efforts to find the Son of God,
its Beloved ; and, even when it has done all it could, itis still
not satisfied, thinking it has done nothing. Accordingly, the
soul is now actively seeking the Beloved, and the present
stanza describes the nature of its search. It has to practise
all virtue and the spiritual exercises of the active and con-
templative life; for this end it rejects all delights and all
comforts ; and all the power and wiles of its three enemies —
the world, the devil, and the flesh—are unable to delay it or
impede its present course.

‘In search of my Love.’ Here we are distinctly taught,
that if we would find God it is not enough to pray with the
heart and the tongue, or, to have recourse to the help of
others; we must work ourselves, according to our power.
God values our own efforts more than those of others in our
behalf; and the soul here recollects the saying of the
Beloved, ‘Seek and you shall find.’* It is resolved on
going forth to seek Him, because it cannot rest without
finding Him, as many do who will not that God should cost

* S. Luke xi. 9,

STANZA
IIL.

Prayer to be
accom

by works of
love and
self-denial.

effort

30 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

STANZA them anything but words, and even those carelessly uttered.

rh

Some, too, will not leave for His sake a place which is to their
taste, expecting to receive all the sweetness of God fully in
their heart without moving a step, without mortifying them-
selves by the abandonment of a single pleasure or useless
delight. But until they go forth out of themselves to seek
Him, however loudly they may ery, they will not find Him;
for the Bride once sought Him in this way, but she found
Him not—‘ In my bed by night I sought Him whom my soul
loveth: I sought Him and found Him not. I will rise and
will go about the city: in the streets and broad ways I will
seek Him whom my soul loveth.”* She afterwards adds,
that when she had endured certain trials she ‘ found Him.’ ft

He that seeks God, consulting his own ease and comfort,
seeks Him by night, and therefore finds Him not. But he
who seeks Him in the practice of virtue and of good works,
casting aside the comforts of his own bed, seeks Him by day ;
such an one shall find Him, for that which is not seen by
night is visible by day. The Bridegroom Himself teaches us
this, saying, ‘ Wisdom is glorious and never fadeth away, and is
easily seen by them that love her, and is found by them that
seek her. She preventeth them that covet her, so that she
first sheweth herself unto them. He that awaketh early to
seek her shall not labour; for he shall find her sitting at his
door.’{ The soul that will go out of the house of its own
will, and abandon the bed of its own satisfaction, will find
the Divine Wisdom, the Son of God, the Bridegroom, sitting
at the door without.

The soul says in search of its Beloved, ‘I will traverse
mountains and strands.’ Mountains are lofty, and they sig-
nify virtues, partly on account of their height, and partly on
account of the toil and labour of ascending them, which is

* Cant. iii. 1. + Ib. iii. 4. t Wisd. vi. 13.

FLOWERS BY THE ROADSIDE. 31

the practice of the contemplative life. The strands are low,
and signify mortifications, penances, and the spiritual exer-
_ eises of the active life, together with those of the contempla-
tive; for both are necessary in seeking after God and in
acquiring virtue. The soul then says, in effect, In search-
’ ing after my Beloved I will practise heroic virtue, and abase
myself by lowly mortifications and acts of humility; for the
way to seek God is to do good works in Him, and to mortify
the evil in ourselves. oe

‘I will gather no flowers.’ He that will seek after God

must have his heart detached, resolute, and free from all —_

evils, and from all goods which are not simply God ; that is the
meaning of these words. The words that follow describe the
liberty and courage which the soul must possess in searching
after God. Here the soul declares that it will gather no
flowers by the way—the flowers are all the delights, satis-
factions, and pleasures which this life offers, and which,
if the soul sought or, accepted, would ruin its spiritual
journey.

These flowers are of three kinds—temporal, sensual, and
spiritual. All of them occupy the heart, and stand in the
way of spiritual detachment required in the way of Christ, if
we regard them or rest in them. The soul, therefore, says
that it will not stop to gather any of them, that it may seek
after God. It seems to say, I will not set my heart upon
riches or the goods of this world; I will not indulge in the
_ satisfactions and ease of the flesh, neither will I consult the

_ taste and comforts of my mind, which will detain me in my
_ search after my Love on the toilsome mountains of Virtue.
This means that it accepts the counsel of the prophet David
to those who travel on this road: ‘If riches abound, set
not your heart upon them.’* This is applicable to sensual

* Ps, lxi. 11,

3. Spiritual.

STAN
it.

1. The world.

Three lions
in the way ;
1. Loss of
favour.

2. Loss of
pleasure.

3. Contempt
from others.

32 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE,

satisfactions as well as to temporal goods and spiritual com-
forts. Remember, it is not only temporal goods and bodily
pleasures that hinder us on the road to God, but spiritual
delight and consolations also, if we attach ourselves to them
or seek them; for these things are obstacles in the way of
the Cross of Christ, the Bridegroom. He, therefore, that will }
go onwards must not only not stop to gather flowers, but he
must also have the courage and resolution to say as fol-
lows :—‘I will fear no wild beasts; and I will overpass the
mighty and the frontiers.’ Here we have the three enemies
of the soul which make war against it, and make its way full
of difficulties. The wild beasts are the world; the mighty,
the devil; and the frontiers are the flesh.

The world is the wild beasts, because in the beginning o°
the heavenly journey the imagination pictures to us the
world like wild beasts, threatening and fierce, principally 11
three ways. The first is, we must forfeit the world’s favour,
lose friends, credit, reputation, and property; the second >
not less cruel: we must suffer the perpetual deprivation of
all the comforts and pleasures of the world; and the third is
still worse: evil tongues will rise against us, mock us, and
speak of us with contempt. This strikes some persons so
vividly, that it becomes most difficult for them, I do not say to
persevere, but even to enter on this road at all. But there
are generous souls who have to encounter wild beasts of a
more interior and spiritual nature—difficulties, temptations,
tribulations, and afflictions of divers kinds, through which
they must pass. This is what God sends to those whom
He is raising upwards to high perfection, proving them and
trying them as gold in the fire; as it is written: ‘ Many are
the afflictions of the just; but out of them all will the Lord
deliver them.’* But the truly enamoured soul, preferring

* Ps, xxxiii. 20,

MEETING THE ENEMY. 33

the Beloved to all things, relying on His love and favour, sranza

finds no difficulty in saying: ‘I will fear no wild beasts.’ ==
* And I will overpass the mighty and the frontiers.’ Evil 2. The

spirits, the second enemy of the soul, are called the mighty, be- cali the

cause they strive with all their might to seize on the passes of

the spiritual road; and because the temptations they suggest

are harder to overcome, and the craft they employ more diffi-

cult to detect, than all the seductions of the world and the flesh;

- and because also they strengthen their own position by the

help of the world and the flesh in their mighty warfare against

the soul. Hence the Psalmist calls them mighty, saying:

* The mighty have sought after my soul.’* The Prophet Job

also speaks of their might: ‘There is no power upon earth

that can be compared with him who was made to fear no

one.’ ¢ There is no human power that can be compared with

the power of the devil, and therefore the Divine power alone

can overcome him, and the Divine light alone can penetrate

his devices. No soul therefore can overcome his might with- To be

out prayer, or perceive his illusions without humility and Prayer and
mortification. Hence the exhortation of the Apostle: ‘Put bmi ane

you on the armour of God, that you may be able to stand
against the deceits of the devil : for our wrestling is not against
flesh and blood.’{ Blood here is the world, and the armour
of God is prayer and the Cross of Christ, wherein consist the
humility and mortification of which I have spoken.

The soul says also that it will cross the frontiers; these 5. The flesh,

are the natural resistance and rebellion of the flesh against
_ the spirit, for the ‘flesh lusteth against the spirit,’ § and sets
itself as a frontier, resisting its spiritual progress. This
frontier the soul must cross, surmounting difficulties, and
trampling under foot all sensual appetites and all natural

affections with great courage and resolution of spirit : for while

* Pa li 5. =f Jobxli24 =f Eph. vill, = § Galat, v, 17,
VOL. I. D

34 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

STANZA they influence the soul, the mind will be impeded by them

from advancing to the true life and spiritual delight. This

Relovel— 28 Set clearly before us by S. Paul, saying: ‘If by the spirit

—_ you mortify the deeds of the flesh, you shall live’* This,
then, is the way to seek the Beloved: a firm resolution to
gather no flowers by the way; courage so as not to fear the
wild beasts, and strength to overpass the mighty and the
frontiers; having set before us only the road over the moun-
tains and the strands, in the way just explained.

STANZA IV.

Ye groves and thickets,

Planted by the hand of the Beloved ;
Ye verdant meads

Enamelled with flowers,

Tell me, has He passed by you?

EXPLANATION.

THe disposition requisite for entering on the spiritual
journey, abstinence from joys and pleasure, being now de-
scribed ; and the courage also with which we have to overcome
temptations and trials, wherein consists the practice of self-
icleaaa knowledge, which is the first step to the knowledge of God,
knowledge of the soul now begins to advance through the knowledge of
oma ereatures to the knowledge of the Beloved their Creator.
For the consideration of the creature, after the practice of
self-knowledge, is the first in order on the spiritual road to
the knowledge of God, Whose grandeur and magnificence they
foreshadow, as it is written: ‘ For the invisible things of Him
God seen in from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being under-
stood by the things thatare made.’f The invisible things of
God are made known by created things, visible and invisible.

* Rom. viii. 13, + Rom, i. 20,

THE UNIVERSE QUESTIONED ABOUT GOD. 35

_ Here the soul addresses itself to created things, demanding STANZA
_ of them its Beloved. And here we observe with 8, Augustine - nh
_ that the inquiry addressed to created things is the thought of cresturrum,
the Creator which they suggest. Now the soul considers the conadertl
_ elements and other creatures below them, the heavens and as
_ other material objects which God has created in them, and
_ finally the heavenly host, saying:
__ * Ye groves and thickets.’ The groves are the elements, The The variety,
_ earth, water, air, and fire. As the most pleasant groves are aoe
studded with plants and shrubs, so the elements are thick with “=
creatures. The elements are called thickets because of the
number and variety of creatures in each. The earth contains
innumerable varieties of animals and plants, the water of
fish, the air of birds, and fire concurs with all in animating
and sustaining them. Each kind of animal lives in its proper
element, planted there, as a tree in a grove, where it is born
and nourished.
And, in truth, God so ordered it at the creation of them;
He commanded the earth to bring forth herbs and animals ;
the waters and the sea, fish; and the air He gave as an
habitation to birds. The soul, considering that this is the
effect of His commandment, cries out, ‘ Planted by the hand
of the Beloved.’
These words imply that the hand of the Beloved only
could have created and nurtured all these varieties and
wonderful things. The soul says deliberately ‘ by the hand
of the Beloved,’ because God doeth many things by the
_ hands of others, as of Angels and men; but the work of crea- Creation
tion has never been, and never is, the work of any other «ret.
hand than His own. Thus the soul considering the creation,
is profoundly stirred up to love God the Beloved, for it
beholds all things to be the work of His hands.
__ * Ye verdant meads.’ These are the heavens; for the things 2. 0f the
which He hath created in the heavens are of incorruptible

36 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

freshness, which neither perish nor wither with time, where
the just are refreshed as in the green pastures. The present
consideration includes all the varieties of the stars in their
beauty, and the other celestial creations. :

The Church also applies the term ‘ verdure’ to heave
things; for while praying to God for the departing soul, it
addresses it as follows: ‘ May Christ, the Son of the living

- God, give thee a place in the ever pleasant verdure of His

Paradise.’*

The soul adds that this verdant mead is ‘ enamelled with
flowers.’ The flowers are the Angels and the holy souls
adorning and beautifying that place as curious enamel on
a vase of pure gold.

‘Tell me, has He passed by you?’ This inquiry is the
consideration of the creature just spoken of, and is in effect:
Tell me, what perfections has He created in you?

STANZA V.
ANSWER OF THE CREATURES.

A thousand graces diffusing
- He passed through the groves in haste,
And beholding them only
As He passed,
He clothed them with His beauty.

EXPLANATION.
Tuts is the answer of the creatures, which, according to
S. Augustine, is the testimony which they furnish to the

- grandeur and perfections of God. This is the result of the

soul’s meditation on created things. The meaning of this
stanza is, in substance, as follows: God created all things
with great ease and rapidity, and left upon them traces of
His presence, not only by creating them out of nothing, but

* Ordo commendationis animae.

aad ‘i oy i. 7 = ES we a
; rn E - ce . oe Vane are al “ a ad ae a :

also by endowing them with innumerable graces and
ialities, making them beautiful in admirable order and
“unceasing mutual dependence. All this He wrought in
eater; by which He created them, which is the Word, His
only begotten Son. .
_. *A thousand graces diffusing” These graces are the
_ multitude of His creatures. The term ‘thousand’ denotes
not their number, but the impossibility of numbering them.
_ They are called graces, because of the qualities with which
_ He has endowed them. He is said to diffuse them because

He fills the whole world with them.

___ * He passed through the groves in haste.’ To pass through
_ the groves is to create the elements; through which He is
said to pass diffusing a thousand graces, because He adorned
them with creatures which are all beautiful. Moreover, He
diffused among them a thousand graces, giving the power of
generation and self-conservation. He is said to pass through,
because the creatures are, as it were, traces of the passage
of God, revealing His greatness, power, and wisdom, and
His other Divine attributes. He passed in haste, because
the creatures are the least of the works of God: He made
them, as it were, in passing. His greatest works, wherein
He is most visible and at rest, are the Incarnation of the Word
and the mysteries of the Christian Faith, in comparison with
_ which all His other works were works wrought in passing
and in haste.

_ *And beholding them only as He passed, He clothed

: them with His beauty.’ The Son of God is the ‘ bright-
; ness of His glory and the figure of His substance.’* God
saw all things in the face of His Son. This was to give
them their natural being, bestowing upon them many graces
and natural qualities, and making them perfect, as it is

a =

* Heb, i, 3,

Res creates
Vestigia Dei.

STANZA
Vv.

38 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

written, ‘God saw all the things that He had made: and

——— they were very good.’* To see all things very good was to

The Incarna-
tion gives

supernatural
beauty to the
universe.

The beauty
of nature a
reflection of
the uncreated
Beauty of
God,

make them very good in the Word His Son. He not only
gave them their being and their natural graces when He
beheld them, but He also clothed them with beauty in the
face of His Son, communicating to them a supernatural
being when He was made man, and exalted him to the beauty
of God, and, by consequence, all creatures in him, because He
united Himself to the nature of them allin man. For this
cause the Son of God Himself said, ‘ And I, if I be lifted
up from the earth, will draw all things to Myself’t And
thus in this exaltation of the Incarnation of His Son, and
the glory of His Resurrection according to the flesh, the
Father not only made all things beautiful in part, but also,
we may well say, clothed them with beauty and dignity.

INTRODUCTION.

Moreover, speaking according to the sense and feeling of
contemplation, the soul beholds, in the vivid contemplation
and knowledge of created things, such a multiplicity of graces,
powers, and beauty in them, that they seem to it to be clothed
with admirable beauty, and supernatural virtue derived from
the infinite supernatural beauty of the face of God, Whose
beholding of them clothed the heavens and the earth with
beauty and joy; as it is written: ‘Thou openest Thy hand
and fillest with blessing every living creature.’ t Hence the
soul, wounded with love of that beauty of the Beloved which
it traces in created things, and anxious to behold that beauty
which is the source of this visible beauty, sings forth asin the
following ‘stanza :—

* Genes, i. 31. t S. John xii. 32. t Ps. exliv. 16.

‘THE CREATURE EXCITES LOVE FOR THE CREATOR. 39

STANZA VI.
THE BRIDE.

O who can heal me?
Give me perfectly Thyself,

Send me no more

A messenger

Who cannot tell me what I seek.
ay
E EXPLANATION.
4 While created things furnish to the soul traces of the STANZA
: Beloved, and exhibit the impress of His beauty and magni- — sake
; ficence, the love of the soul increases, and consequently the fhe intudve

Vision of

pain of His absence: for the greater the soul’s knowledge of Goa.
God, the greater its desire to see Him, and its pain when it
cannot: and while there is no remedy for this pain except in
the presence and vision of the Beloved, the soul, distrustful
of every other remedy, prays for the fruition of His presence.
It says, in effect: Entertain me no more with any knowledge
of Thee, or with Thy communications, or impressions of Thy
grandeur, for these do but increase my longing, and the pain
of Thy absence, for Thy presence alone can satisfy my will and
desire. The will cannot be satisfied with anything less than
the Vision of God, and therefore the soul prays that He may
be pleased to give Himself to it perfectly in truth, in the con-
summation of love.

: *O who canheal me?’ That is, there is nothing in all the
a delights of the world, nothing in the satisfaction of the senses,
nothing in the sweetness of the spirit that can heal or content
me, and therefore it adds :—

‘Give me perfectly Thyself.’ No soul that really loves Knowledge
can be satisfied or content short of the fruition of God. For »v«.
everything else not only does not satisfy the soul, but rather
increases the hunger and thirst of seeing Him as He is. Thus
every glimpse of the Beloved,every knowledge and tmpression,

ll i Fl, el

40 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

STANZA OT communication from Him—these are the messengers sug-
gestive of Him—increase and quicken the soul’s desire after
Him, as crumbs of food stimulate the appetite. The soul
therefore mourning over the misery of being entertained by
matters of so little moment, cries out: ‘Give me perfectly
Thyself.’

Our know- Now all our knowledge of God in this life, how great
life soever it may be, is not a’ perfectly true knowledge of Him,
because it is partial and incomplete; but to know Him es-
sentially is true knowledge, and that it is which the soul
prays for here, not satisfied with any other kind. Hence it
says :—

‘Send me no more a messenger.’ That is, grant that I may
no longer know Thee in this limited way by the messengers
of knowledge and impressions, which are so distant from that
which my soul desires; for these messengers, as Thou well
knowest, O my Spouse, do but increase the pain of Thy
absence. They renew the wound which Thou hast inflicted by
the knowledge of Thee which they convey, and they seem to
delay Thy coming. Henceforth do Thou send me no more of
these inadequate communications, for if I have been hitherto
satisfied’ with them, it was owing to the slightness of my
knowledge and my love: now that my love has become great,
I cannot satisfy myself with them; do Thou, therefore, give
me perfectly Thyself. It is as if it said: O Lord, my Spouse,
Who didst give me Thyself partially before, give me Thyself
wholly now: Thou who didst show glimpses of Thyself before,
show Thyself clearly now: Thou who didst communicate
Thyself hitherto by the instrumentality of messengers—it
was as if Thou didst mock me—give Thyself by Thyself now.
Sometimes when Thou didst visit me Thou gavest me the -
pearl of Thy possession, and when I began to examine it, lo,
it was gone, for Thou hadst hidden it Thyself: it was like a
mockery. Give me then Thyself in truth, Thy whole self,

41

th at I may have Thee wholly to myself wholly, and send me
Thy messengers no more.

__ £Who cannot tell me what I seek.’ I seek Thee wholly,
_ and Thy messengers neither know Thee wholly, nor can they
_ speak of Thee wholly, for there is nothing in earth or heaven
_ that can furnish that knowledge to the soul which it longs

for. They cannot tell me what I seek. Instead of these

Messengers, therefore, be Thou the messenger and the message
Thyself.

STANZA VIL

All they who serve

Relate a thousand graces of Thee ;
And all wound me more and more,
And they leave me dying,

While they babble I know not what.

EXPLANATION.

Tue soul is described in the foregoing stanza as wounded or
sick with love of the Bridegroom, because of the knowledge
of Him which the irrational creation supplies, and in the
present, as wounded with love because of the higher know-
ledge which it derives from the rational creation, nobler than
the other, that is, from Angels and from men. This is not
all, for the soul now says that it is dying of love, because of
that marvellous immensity not wholly but partially revealed
to it through the rational creation. This it calls ‘I know
not what,’ because it cannot be described, and because it is
such that the soul dies of it.

It seems from this that there are three kinds of pain in the
soul’s love of the Beloved corresponding to the three kinds of
knowledge that it has of Him. The first is called a wound;
not deep, quickly passing away like a wound which heals,

42 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

This is the act of that knowledge of God which the creatures
supply, which are His inferior work. This wounding of the
soul, called also sickness, is thus spoken of by the Bride:
‘I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my
Beloved, that you tell Him that I languish with love.’* The
daughters of Jerusalem are the creatures.

The second is called a sore which enters deeper than a wound
into the soul, and, therefore, of longer continuance, because it
isa wound festering, on account of which the soul feels that it
is dying of love. This sore isthe act of the knowledge of the
operations of the Incarnation of the Word, and the mysteries
of the Faith. These being the greatest works of God, and
involving a greater love than those of creation, produce a
greater effect of love in the soul. If the first kind of pain
be as a wound, this must be like a festering continuous sore.
Of this speaks the Bridegroom, addressing Himself to the
Bride, saying: ‘Thou hast wounded my heart, my sister, my
spouse, thou hast wounded my heart with one of thy eyes,
and with one hair of thy neck.’t The eye signifies faith in
the Incarnation, and the one hair is the love of the same.

The third kind of pain is like dying; it is as if the whole
soul were festering because of its wound. It is dying a living
death until love, having slain it, shall make it live the life of
love, transforming it in love. This dying of love is effected
by a single touch of the knowledge of the Divinity. This is
the ‘I know not what,’ of which the creatures can but babble.
This touch is not continuous nor protracted, but quick in its
course, for otherwise soul and body would part. Hence the
soul is dying of love, and dying the more when it sees that it
cannot die of love. This is called impatient love, of which
we have an illustration in Rachel, who, because of her love
of children, said to Jacob, ‘Give me children, otherwise I

* Cant. v. 8. t+ Cant. iv. 9.

eee ee Oe ;
wae

TESTIMONY OF RATIONAL CREATURES. 43

4 shall die;* and in Job, saying: ‘Who will grant ....

that He that hath begun may destroy me?’ f

These two kinds of pain, the festering sore and dying,
are here said to proceed from the rational creation; the
sore, because the soul says that the rational creation relates
innumerable graces of the Beloved in the mysteries of the
Faith and the knowledge of God which they teach ; the pain of
dying, because it says of the rational creation that it babbles,
that is, gives forth an impression and notion of the Divinity
which is sometimes revealed to the soul in what it hears said
of God.

‘All they who serve.’ That is, the rational creation,
Angels and men; for these alone are they who serve God,
understanding by that word intelligent service. That is to
say, all they who serve God: some by contemplation and
fruition in Heaven, as the Angels; others by loving and
longing for Him on earth, as men. And because the soul
learns to know God more distinctly through the rational
creation, whether by considering its superiority over the rest
of creation, or by what it teaches us of God—the Angels
interiorly by secret inspirations, and men exteriorly by
the truths of Scripture—it says: They ‘relate a thousand
graces.’ That is, they speak of the wonderful things of Thy
grace and mercy in the Incarnation, and in the truths of Faith
which they declare and ever relate of Thee; for the more
they say, the more do they reveal Thy graces.

‘ And all wound me more and more.’ The more the Angels
inspire me, the more men teach me, the more do I love
Thee; and thus all wound me more and more with love.

‘ And they leave me dying, while they babble I know not
what.’ That is, the rational creation wounds me by relating
Thy thousand graces; but that is not all, there is something

* Genes, xxx. 1. t Job vi. 8, 9.

Greater

love.

STANZA
vu.

To know
God best is to
know He is
incompre-
hensible.

44 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

still more, I know not what, that remains unspoken, some-
thing still to be uttered, a certain profound impression of
God still to be traced, a certain deep knowledge of God inef-
fable, the ‘I know not what.’ If what I can comprehend
inflicts the wound and festering sore of love, what I cannot
comprehend but feel profoundly, kills me. This happens oc-
casionally to souls already advanced, whom God favours in
what they hear, or see, or understand—and sometimes without
these means—-with a certain profound knowledge, in which
they feel or apprehend the greatness and grandeur of God.
In this state they judge so highly of God as to see clearly
that they know Him not, and in their perception of His
Immensity they recognise that not to comprehend Him is
the highest comprehension. And thus, one of the greatest
favours of God, bestowed transiently on the soul in this life,
is to enable it to see so distinctly, and to feel so profoundly,
that it clearly understands it cannot comprehend Him at all.
These souls are herein, in some degree, like the Blessed in
Heaven; there they who know Him most perfectly perceive
most clearly that He is infinitely incomprehensible. To know
God best is to know He is incomprehensible; for those who
have the less clear vision, do not perceive so distinctly as the
others, how greatly He transcends their vision. This is clear
to none who have not had experience of it. But the ex-
perienced soul, comprehending that there is something further
of which it is profoundly sensible, calls it, ‘I know not what.’
As that cannot be understood, so neither can it be described,
though it be felt, as I have said. Hence the soul says that the
creature ‘ babbles,’ because it cannot perfectly utter what it
attempts in babbling; as infants babble, who cannot explain
distinctly or speak intelligibly that which they would convey
to others.

INTRODUCTION.

Tue soul derives light also from the other portions of
creation, though not always so clear, when God is pleased to
reveal to it the knowledge and significance of the meaning
that is in them, They seem to set forth the greatness of
God, but not perfectly; it is as if they revealed something
which still they have not, and so they babble I know not
what. The soul proceeds with its complaint, and, addressing
its own life, speaks as in the stanza before us :-—

STANZA VIII.

But how thou perseverest, O life!
Not living where thou livest ;

The arrows bring death
Which thou receivest

From thy conceptions of the Beloved.

EXPLANATION.

The soul perceiving itself to be dying of love, and yet not
dying so as to have the free enjoyment of its love, complains of
the continuance of its bodily life, by which the spiritual life is
delayed. Here the soul addresses itself to the life it is living
upon earth, magnifying the sorrows of it. The meaning of
the stanza therefore is as follows :—O my life, how canst thou
persevere in this life of the flesh; seeing that it is thy death and
the privation of the true spiritual life of God, in Whom thou
livest in substance, love, and desire, more truly than in the
body? And if this were not reason enough to depart, and
free thyself from the body of this death, so as to live and
enjoy the life of thy God, how canst thou still persevere in a
body so frail; when, in addition, those wounds, which the
love of the grandeurs communicated by the Beloved in-
flicted upon thee, are sufficient to destroy life? And
thus all thy perceptions of Him, all the impressions He

STANZA

STANZA
Vit.

He lives the
longest who
loves God the
most.

The enjoy-
ment of this
twofold life

46 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

makes upon thee, are so many touches and wounds of love
that kill.

‘ But how thou perseverest, O life! not living where thou
livest.” We must keep in mind, for the better understanding
of this, that the soul lives there where it loves, rather than
in the body which it animates. The soul does not live by
the body, but, on the contrary, gives it life, and lives by
love in that which it loves. For beside the life of love
which it lives in God Whom it loves, the soul has its radical
and essential life in God, like all created things, according to
the saying of S. Paul: ‘In Him we live and move and are ;’*
that is, our life, motion, and being isin God. S. John also
says that all that was made was life in God: ‘that which
was made, in Him was life.’t When the soul sees that its
essential life is in God through the being He has given it, and
its spiritual life also because of the love it bears Him, it
breaks forth into lamentations, complaining that so frail a
life in a mortal body should have such power as to hinder it
from the fruition of the true, real, and beatific life, which it
lives in God by being and by love. Earnestly, therefore,
does the soul insist upon this: it tells us that it suffers
between two contradictions—its natural life in the body, and
its spiritual life in God; contrary the one to the other,
because of their mutual repugnance. The soul living this
double life is of necessity in great pain; for the painful life
impedes the beatific, so that the natural life is as death,
seeing that it deprives the soul of its spiritual life, wherein is
its whole being and life by essence, and all its operations and
feelings by love. The soul, therefore, to depict more vividly
the cruel nature of this fragile life, adds :—

* Acts xvii. 28.

Tt The Saint adopts a punctuation different from the usual one. He
reads thus: Omnia per Ipsum facta sunt, et sine Ipso factum est nihil :
Quod factum est, in Ipso vita erat. All things were made by Him, and
without Him nothing was made: What was made in Him was life,

a

COMPLAINT OF THE WOUNDED SOUL. 47

_ €The arrows bring death which thou receivest.’ That is,
it seems to say, How canst thou continue in the body, seeing
that the touches of love—these are the arrows—with which the
Beloved pierces thy heart are alone sufficient to deprive thee
of life? These touches of love make the soul and the heart
so fruitful of the knowledge and love of God, that they may
well be called conceptions of God.

‘From thy conceptions of the,Beloved.’ That is, of His
greatness, beauty, wisdom, grace, and power.

INTRODUCTION.

As the hart wounded with an arrow cannot rest, but seeks
relief on all sides, plunging into the waters here and again
there, whilst the arrow, notwithstanding all its attempts
at relief, sinks deeper in, till it reaches the heart, and occa-
sions death; so the soul, pierced by the arrow of love, never
ceases from seeking to alleviate its pains. Not only does it
not succeed, but its pains increase, let it think, and say, and
do what it may ; and knowing this, and that there is no other
remedy but to resign itself into the hands of Him Who
wounded it, that He may relieve its sufferings, and effectually
slay it through the violence of its love, it turns towards the
Bridegroom Who is the cause of all, and says :—

STANZA IX.

Why, after wounding

This heart, hast Thou not healed it?

And why, after stealing it,

Hast Thou thus abandoned it,

And not carried away what Thou hast stolen?

EXPLANATION.

Here the soul returns to the Beloved, still complaining of its
pain; for that impatient love which the soul now exhibits

48 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

STANZA admits of no rest or cessation from pain; so it sets forth its
griefs in all manner of ways until it finds relief. The soul
seeing itself wounded and lonely, and having no other phy-
sician or cure but the Beloved Who has wounded it, asks why
He, having wounded its heart with the knowledge of His
love, does not kill it in the vision of His presence; and why
He abandons the heart which He has stolen through the
love with which it is inflamed, after having deprived the
soul of all power over it. The soul has now no power over
the heart—for he who loves has none—because it is sur-
rendered to the Beloved, and yet He has not taken it to
Himself in the pure and perfect transformation of love in
glory. | |

Deeper the ‘Why, after wounding this heart, hast Thou not healed

wound

greaterthe it?’ The enamoured soul complains not of the wound itself,
joy, and desire

the Vniene for the deeper the wound the greater is its joy, but that the
the Beloved. heart, being wounded, is not healed by being wounded unto
death. The wounds of love are so deliciously sweet, that, if
they do not kill, they cannot satisfy the soul. They are so sweet
that it desires to die of them, and hence it is that it says:
‘Why, after having wounded this heart, hast Thou not healed
it?’ That is, why hast Thou struck it so sharply as to wound it
so deeply, and yet not. healed it by killing it utterly with love?
As Thou art the cause of its pain in the affliction of love, be
Thou also the cause of its health by a death from love; so the
heart, wounded by the pain of Thy absence, shall be healed
in the delight and glory of Thy sweet presence.
‘And why, after stealing it, hast Thou thus abandoned it ?’
Stealing is nothing else but the act of a robber in dispossess-
ing the owner of his goods, and possessing them himself.
Here the soul complains to the Beloved that He has robbed
it of its heart lovingly, and taken it out of its own power
and possession, and then abandoned it, without taking it into
His own power and possession as the thief does with the

a ee SS, ae oe + a Ta
a eR ed ile > oe ae ar?!
bh OP Ee See itr. Fy

7 re

LOVE THE REWARD OF LOVE. 49

love is said to have lost his heart, or to have it stolen by the

_ object of his love; because it is no longer in his own posses-

_ sion, but in the power of the object of his love, and so his

heart is not his own, but the property of the person he loves.

; This consideration will enable us to determine whether we

_ love God simply or not. If we love Him, our heart will not

_ consider itself, nor look to its own pleasure or profit, but to

the honour, glory, and pleasure of God; for the more the

heart is occupied with self, the less is it occupied with God.

Whether God has really stolen our heart may be ascertained

by either of these two signs:—Is it anxiously seeking after

God? and has it no pleasure in anything but in Him, as the

soul here says? The reason of this is that the heart cannot

rest in peace without the possession of something ; and when

its affections are once placed, it has neither the possession

of itself nor of anything else; neither does it perfectly possess

what it loves. In this state its weariness is proportional to its

loss, until it shall enter into possession and be satisfied; for

until then, the soul is as an empty vessel waiting to be filled,

as a hungry man eager for food, as a sick man sighing for

health, and as a man suspended in the air without support

to his feet. Such is the state of the loving heart, and

the soul through experience of it cries out: ‘ Why hast thou

thus abandoned it ?’—that is, empty, hungry, lonely, wounded,

in the pangs of love, suspended in air. ‘And hast not carried

away what Thou hast stolen?’ Why dost Thou not carry away

_ the heart which Thy love has stolen, to fill it, to heal it, and to

satiate it by giving it perfect rest in Thyself ?

_ The loving soul, for the sake of greater conformity with

the Beloved, cannot cease to desire the recompense and

reward of its love for the sake of which it serves the Beloved,

_ otherwise it could not be true love, for the recompense of

_ love is nothing else, and the soul seeks nothing else, but greater
VOL. II. E

to
soul,

Pt he steals, carrying*them away with him. He whois in STANZA

50 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

STANZA love until it reaches the perfectidn of love; for the sole
reward of love is love, as we learn from the prophet Job,
who, speaking of his own distress, which is that of the soul now
referred to, says: ‘As a servant longeth for the shade, as the
hireling looketh for the end of his work ; so I also have had
empty months, and have numbered to myself wearisome
nights. If I lie down to sleep, I shall say, When shall I
arise? and again, I shall look for the evening, and shall be
filled with sorrows even till darkness.’ *

The soulasks Thus, then, the soul on fire with the love of God longs for
from labour the perfection and consummation of its love, that it may be

ie wark: te, completely refreshed. As the servant wearied by the heat of

tfine." the day longs for the cooling shade, and as the hireling looks
for the end of his work, so the soul for the end of its own.
Observe, Job does not say that the hireling looks for the end
of his labour, but only for the end of his work. He teaches
us that the soul which loves looks not for the end of its
labour, but only of its work ; because its work is to love, and
it is the end of this that it longs for, namely, the perfection
of the love of God. Until it attains to this, the words of Job
will be always true of it—its months will be empty, and its
nights wearisome and tedious. It is clear, then, that the soul
which loves God seeks and looks for no other reward of its
service than to love God perfectly.

INTRODUCTION.

Tue soul, having reached this degree of love, resembles a sick
man exceedingly wearied, whose appetite is gone, and to
whom his food is loathsome; to whom all things are an
annoyance, and who, amidst all things around him that pre-
sent themselves to his thoughts, or feelings, or sight, longs

* Job vii. 2-4.

a ee rae
; - GOD ALONE CAN SATISFY THE SOUL. 51

_ for nothing but health; and to whom everything that does
not contribute thereto is wearisome and oppressive. The soul
in pain because of its love of God has three peculiarities :—

1. Under all circumstances, and in all affairs, the thought of
its health—that is the Beloved—is ever present to it; and
_ though it is obliged to attend to them because it can resist
no longer, still He is ever present in its heart. 2. The
second peculiarity, namely, a loss of pleasure in everything,
arises from the first. 3. The third also is a consequence of
the second, all things become wearisome, and all affairs
full of vexation and annoyance.

The reason is, that the palate of the will having touched
and tasted of the food of the love of God, the will instantly,
under all circumstances, regardless of every other considera-
tion, seeks the fruition of the Beloved. It is with the soul now
as it was with Mary Magdalen, when in her burning love she
looked for Him in the garden. She,thinking Him to be the
gardener, spoke to Him without further reflection, saying:
‘If thou hast taken Him hence, tell me where thou hast laid
Him, and I will take Him away.’* The soul is under the
influence of a like anxiety to find Him in all things, and
not finding Him immediately, as it desires—but rather the
reverse—not only has no pleasure in them, but is even tor-
mented by them, and sometimes exceedingly so; for such
_ souls suffer greatly in their intercourse with men and in
_ the transactions of the world, because these things hinder
_ rather than help them in their search.

__ The Bride in the Canticle shows us that she had these three
_ peculiarities when she was seeking the Bridegroom. ‘I
; Sought Him and found Him not: the keepers that go about the
_ city found me, they struck me and wounded me: the keepers
_ Of the walls took away my veil from me.’f The keepers

* S. John xx. 15. + Cant. v. 6, 7.
g2

STANZA
x.

Three
of the
soul,

i

STANZA

52 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

that go about the city are the conversation of this world, which,
when it ‘finds’ a soul seeking after God, inflicts upon it
many wounds of pain, and grief, and loathing; for the soul
not only does not find in it what it seeks, but rather an
impediment to its seeking. They who keep the wall of con-
templation, so that the soul may not enter—that is, evil
spirits and worldly affairs—take away the veil of peace and
the quiet of loving contemplation. All this inflicts infinite
vexation on the soul enamoured of God; and while it remains —
on earth without the Vision of God, there is no relief, great
or small, from these afflictions, and the soul therefore
continues to complain to the Beloved, saying :—

STANZA X,

Quench Thou my troubles,

For none else can do 80;

And let my eyes behold Thee

Who art-their light,

And it is for Thee alone I would use them.

Here the soul continues to beseech the Beloved to put an
end to its anxieties and distress—none other than He can do
so—and that in such a way that its eyes may behold Him;
for He alone is the light which they regard, and there is
none other but He whom they desire to behold.

‘Quench Thou my troubles.’ The desire of love has this
peculiarity, that everything said or done which does not
harmonise with its object, wearies and annoys the will;
which is rendered peevish when it sees itself disappointed in
its desires. This state of things is here called ‘troubles;’ that
is, the soul’s longing after the Vision of God. These troubles
nothing can remove except the fruition of the Beloved; hence
the soul prays Him to quench them with His presence, to cool
their feverishness, as the cooling water him who is wearied
by the heat. The soul makes use of the expression ‘ quench,’
to denote its sufferings from the fire of love.

“THE UNCREATED LIGHT. 53

a a ‘ © For none else can do so.’ The soul, in order to move and STANZA
Disersuade the Beloved to grant its petition, says: As none [>
- other but Thou can satisfy my needs, do Thou quench my Seswhoare
‘troubles. Remember here that God is then close at hand, to from
comfort the soul and to satisfy its wants, when it has and

seeks no other satisfaction or comfort out of Him. The soul

. that finds no pleasure out of God cannot be long unvisited

__ by the Beloved.
___ And let my eyes behold Thee.’ Let me see Thee face to
_ face with the eyes of the soul.
_ €Who art their light.’ God is the supernatural light of Gol fe Be

_ the soul; without which it abides in darkness. And now,
in the excess of its affection, it calls Him the light of its
_ eyes, after the manner of earthly lovers when they would
exhibit the affection they bear to the object of their love.
_ The soul says in effect: Since my eyes have no other light,
either of nature or of love, but Thee, let them behold Thee,
Who in every way art their light. David was regretting this
light when he said in his trouble: ‘ The light of my eyes itself
is not with me;’* and Tobias when he said: ‘What manner
of joy shall be to me who sit in darkness, and see not the
_ light of heaven?’t He was longing for the clear Vision of
_ God; for the light of Heaven is the Son of God; as it is
_ written: ‘And the city hath no need of the sun, nor of the
_ moon to shine in it; for the glory of God hath enlightened
_ it, and the Lamb is the lamp thereof.’ t
_ And it is for Thee alone I would use them.’ The soul
_ seeks to constrain the Bridegroom to permit it to see the
; - light of its eyes, not only on the ground that it would be in
_ darkness without it, but also on the ground that it will not
— look upon anything else but on Him. For as the soul is
p iedy deprived of this Divine light if it fixes the eyes of the

* Ps, xxxvii. 11. t Tob, v. 12, t Apoc, xxi. 23,

STANZA
x.

54 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

will on any other light, proceeding from anything that is not
God, for then its vision is confined to that object; so also the
soul by a certain fitness deserves the Divine light, if it shuts

its eyes against all objects whatever, and opens them only

for the Vision of God.

INTRODUCTION.

But the loving Spouse of souls cannot bear to see them suffer
long in their isolation, for ‘he that toucheth you,’ saith He,
‘toucheth the apple of My eye;’* especially when their
sufferings proceed from their love for Him. ‘It shall come
to pass that before they call, I will hear; as they are yet
speaking, I will hear.’t And the wise man saith that the
soul that seeketh Him as treasure shall find Him.t God
grants a certain spiritual presence of Himself to the fervent
prayers of the loving soul which seeks Him more earnestly
than treasure, seeing that it has abandoned all things, and
even itself, for His sake. In that presence of Himself, He
shows certain profound glimpses of His Divinity and Beauty,
whereby He still increases the soul’s anxious desire to behold
Him. For as men throw water on the coals of the forge to
cause intenser heat, so our Lord in His dealings with certain
souls, in the intervals of their love, shows them some of His
own grandeur to quicken their fervour, and to prepare them
for those graces which He intends for them afterwards. Thus
the soul, in that obscure presence of God, beholding and
feeling the supreme good and beauty hidden there, dies of
its desire for the Vision, saying :—

* Zach, ii. 8 + Is, Ixy, 24, t Prov, ii. 4, 5.

oe ale el ae” a

STANZA XI.

Reveal Thy presence,
And let the vision of Thy beauty kill me.
Behold, the disease
Of love is incurable
| Except in Thy presence and in the light of Thy countenance.
The soul, anxious to be possessed by the great God, Whose
Jove has wounded and stolen its heart, and unable to suffer
- more, beseeches Him directly to reveal Himself, and to show
_ His Beauty—that is, the Divine Essence—and to slay it in
that vision, separating it from the body, which hinders the
desired vision and fruition of Him. And further, setting
forth the pain and sorrow of its heart, which continues to
afflict it because of its love, and unable to discover any other
remedy than the glorious vision of the Divine Essence, cries
out: * Reveal Thy presence.’
There are three ways in which God is present in the soul.
_ Thé first is His presence in essence, not in holy souls only,
but in wretched and sinful souls as well, and also in all
ereated things; for it is this presence that gives life and
being, and if it were once withdrawn all things would return

to nothing. This presence never fails in the soul. The second 2.

_ is His presence by grace, when He dwells in the soul, pleased
and satisfied with it. This presence is not in all souls; for
_ those that fall into mortal sin lose it, and no soul can know
in a natural way whether it has this presence or not. The

_ third is His presence of spiritual affection. God is wont to
_ show His presence in many devout souls in divers ways of
_ refreshment, joy, and gladness; yet this, like the others, is
_ secret, for He does not show Himself as He is, because the
_ condition of our mortal life does not admit of it. Thus this
_ prayer of the soul may be understood of any one of these ways

_ of His presence.

STANZA
xi.

STANZA
i

56 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

‘Reveal Thy presence.’ Inasmuch as it is certain that
God is ever present in the soul, at least in the first way, the
soul does not say: Be Thou present; but, Reveal and manifest
Thy hidden presence, whether natural, spiritual, or affective,
in such a way that I may behold Thee in Thy Divine Essence
and Beauty. The soul prays Him that as He by His essential
presence gives it its being, and perfects it by His presence of
grace, so also He would glorify it by the manifestation of His
glory. But as the soul is now loving God with fervent affec-
tions, the presence, for the revelation of which it prays, is
chiefly the affective presence of the Beloved. Such is the
nature of this presence that the soul felt in it a hidden
infinite something, whereby God communicated to it certain
obscure visions of His own Divine beauty. Such was the
effect of these visions that the soul longed and fainted away
with the desire of that which is hidden beneath that presence.
This is in harmony with the experience of David, when he
said: ‘My soul longeth and fainteth for the courts of
the Lord.’* The soul now faints away with desire of béing
absorbed in the Supreme Good which it feels to be present
and hidden; for though it be hidden, the soul is profoundly
conscious of the ‘good and delight which are there. The soul
is attracted to this good with more violence than matter to
its centre, and is unable to contain itself, by reason of the
force of this attraction, from saying: Reveal Thy presence.

Moses on Mount Sinai in the presence of God saw such
glimpses of the grandeur and beauty of His hidden Divinity
that, unable to endure it, he prayed twice for the vision of
His glory, saying: ‘ Whereas Thou hast said: I know thee by
name, and thou hast found favour in my sight. If, therefore,
I have found favour in Thy sight, shew me Thy face, that I
may know Thee and find grace before Thy eyes;’f that is

* Ps, lxxxiii. 1. + Exod. xxxiii, 12, 18.

3 ae

MAN CANNOT SEE GOD AND LIVE. 87

the grace which he longed for,—to attain to the perfect love of
the glory of God. The answer of the Lord was: ‘ Thou canst
not see My face, for man shall not see Me and live.’* It is
as if God had said : Moses, thy prayer is difficult to grant; the
beauty of My face is so great, and the joy of the vision of it
so intense, that if I grant it, thy soul cannot endure it in thy
life which is so frail. The soul, conscious of this truth,
whether through the words addressed to Moses, or through
what it feels hidden in this presence, namely, that in this life
it cannot gaze upon His beauty—since the mere glimpse of
Him makes it faint away—anticipates the answer that may be
given to it, as it was to Moses, and says: ‘ Let the vision of
Thy beauty kill me.’ That is, since the vision of Thee and
Thy beauty is so full of delight that I must die in the act of
beholding, let the vision of Thy beauty kill me.

Two visions are fatal to man, because he cannot bear them
and live. One, that of the basilisk, at the sight of which men
are said to die at once. The other is the vision of God; but
there is a great difference between them. The former kills
by poison, the other with infinite bliss and glory. It is,
therefore, nothing strange for the soul to desire to die by
beholding the beauty of God in order to enjoy Him for ever.
If the soul had but one single glimpse of the grandeur and
beauty of God, it would not only desire to die once in order
to behold Him, but would endure joyfully a thousand most
bitter deaths to behold Him even for a moment, and having
seen Him would suffer as many deaths again to see Him for
another moment.

It is necessary to observe, that the soul is speaking con-
ditionally, when it prays that the vision of God’s beauty may
slay it; it assumes that the vision must be preceded by death,

STANZA
xi.

for if it were possible before death, the soul would not pray

* Exod, xxxiii, 20.

2. Love was
not perfect.

58 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

for death, because the desire of death is a natural imperfec-
tion. The soul, therefore, takes it for granted, that this cor-
ruptible life cannot coexist with the incorruptible life of God,
and says: ‘ Let the vision of Thy beauty kill me.’

S. Paul teaches the same doctrine when he says: * We
would not be unclothed, but clothed upon, that that which
is mortal may be swallowed up by life.’* That is, we desire
not to be divested of the flesh, but to be invested with glory.
But reflecting that he could not live in glory and in a mortal
body at the same time, he says in another place: ‘having a
desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ.’ t

Here arises this question, Why did the people of Israel
dread the vision of God under the old Law, and avoid it, that
they might not die, as it appears they did from the words of
Manue to his wife, ‘ We shall certainly die, because we have
seen God,’ { when the perfect soul desires to die through that
vision? To this question two answers may be given.

1. In those days men could not see God, though dying in
the state of grace, because Christ had not come. It was
therefore more profitable for them to live in the flesh,
increasing in merit, and enjoying their natural life, than to
be in Limbus, incapable of meriting, suffering in the darkness
and in the spiritual absence of God. They therefore consi-
dered it a great blessing to live long upon earth.

2. The second answer is founded on considerations drawn
from the love of God. They, in those days, were not so con-
firmed in love, neither did they draw so near to God in love
as to be without fear of the vision of God; but now, under
the law of grace, when, on the death of the body, the soul
may behold God, it is more profitable to live but a short time,
and then to die in order tosee Him. And even if the vision
were withheld, the soul that really loves God will not be afraid

* 2 Cor. v. 4. + Phil. i. 23, t Judg. xiii. 22, .

| DEATH THE FRIEND. 59
to die at the sight of Him; for true love accepts with perfect starz
_ resignation and in the same spirit, and even with joy, what- oe
ever comes to it from the hands of the Beloved, whether
__ prosperity or adversity—yea, and even chastisements such as
He shall be pleased to send, for, as the Apostle saith, ‘ perfect
charity casteth out fear.’*
' Thus, then, there is no bitterness in death to the soul that neath tovea
loves, when it brings with it all the sweetness and delights of 7"
love, there is no sadness in the remembrance of it when it
opens the door to all joy; the thought of it is not painful and
oppressive, when it is the end of all unhappiness and sorrow,
and the beginning of all good. Yea, the soul looks upon it asa
friend and its bride, and exults in the recollection of it as the
day of espousals; it yearns for the day and hour of death
more than the kings of the earth for principalities and king-
doms. It was of this kind of death that the wise man said:
*O death, thy sentence is welcome to the man in need.’¢ If
the sentence of death is welcome to the man in need, though
it does not supply his wants, but rather deprives him even of
what he hath, how much more welcome will that sentence
be to the soul in need of love and crying for more, when
it will not only not rob it of the love it hath already, but
will be the occasion of that fulness of love which it yearns
for, and the supply of all its necessities.

It is not without cause, then, that the soul is bold to say:
* Let the vision of Thy beauty kill me ;’ for it knows well that
in the instant of that vision it will be itself absorbed and
transformed into that beauty,and be made beautiful like it,
enriched, and abounding in beauty as that beauty itself.
‘Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His Saints,’ t
saith the Psalmist ; but that could not be so if they did not be-

_ comes partakers of His greatness, for there is nothing precious

* 18, John iv, 18, + Ecclus, xli, 3. t Ps. exy. 15,

STANZA
XI.

Death feared

by the
wicked,

60 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

in the eyes of God except that which He is Himself, and there-
fore the soul, when it loves, fears not death, but rather desires
it. But the sinner is always afraid to die, because he suspects
that death will deprive him of all good, and inflict upon him
all evil; for ‘ the death of the wicked is very evil,’ * and there-
fore, as the wise man saith, the very thought of it is bitter:
*O death, how bitter is the remembrance of thee to a man
that hath peace in his possessions!’ The wicked love this
life greatly, and the next but little, and are therefore afraid
of death; but the soul that loves God lives more in the next
life than in this, because it lives rather where it loves than
where it dwells, and therefore, esteeming but lightly its present
bodily life, cries out : ‘ Let the vision of Thy beauty kill me.’

‘Behold, the disease of love is incurable, except in Thy
presence and in the light of Thy countenance.’ The reason
why the sickness of love admits of no other remedy than the
presence and countenance of the Beloved is, that the sickness
of love differs from every other sickness, and therefore requires
a different remedy, In other diseases, according to sound
philosophy, contraries are cured by contraries; but love is
not cured but by what is in harmony with itself. The reason
is, that the health of the soul consists in the love of God, and
so when that love is not perfect, its health is not perfect, and
the soul is therefore sick, for sickness is nothing else but a
failure of health. Thus, that soul which loves not at all is
dead; but when it loves a little, how little soever that may
be, it is then alive, though exceedingly weak and sick because
it loves God so little. But the more its love increases, the
greater will be its health, and when its love is perfect, then,
too, its health also is perfect. Love is not perfect until the
lovers become so on an equality as to be mutually transformed
into one another ; then love is wholly perfect.

* Ps, xxxiii. 22. | + Ecelus. xli, 1.

: a woe | Pat) oe a bd so — ae «
i it aoe ‘e) —- , '
raed ee at —, ye: . -
oa hs > on r = a iy ey ee > ; Sl

> eu On
, a,
a v" ae sar 4
. _ - > -
2 -

pe ‘THE CURE OF asia: LOVE. 61

i

~ And because the soul is now conscious of acertain adumbra- stan za
4 s on of love, the sickness of which it speaks, and yearns to be ———
made like to Him of whom it is a shadow, that is the Bride-
q "groom, the Word of God, the ‘splendour of His glory, and the
figure of His substance ;’* and because it is into this figure
¥ -itdesires to be transformed, it cries out : ‘ Behold, the disease
“J - of love is incurable except in Thy presence, and in the light
of Thy countenance.’ The love that is imperfect is rightly
called a disease, because as a sick man is enfeebled and cannot
work, so the soul that is weak in love is also enfeebled and
_ eannot practise heroic virtue.
Another explanation of these words is this: he who feels
_. this disease of love, that is, a failure of it, has an evidence in
himself that he has some love, because he ascertains what is
_ __ deficient in him by that which he possesses. But he who is
not conscious of this disease has evidence therein that he has
no love at all, or that he has already attained to perfect love.

INTRODUCTION.

_ Te soul now conscious of a vehement longing after God,
like a stone rushing to its centre, and like wax which has
_ begun to receive the impression of the seal, which it cannot
_ perfectly represent, and knowing, moreover, that it is like a
picture lightly sketched, crying for the artist to finish his
work, and having its faith so clear as to trace most distinctly
_ certain Divine glimpses of the grandeurs of God, knows not
what to do but to turn inward to that Faith—as involving
and veiling the face and beauty of the Beloved—from which
_ it hath received those impressions and pledges of love, and
_ which it thus addresses :—

* Heb. i. 3.

Resembles

a clear
fountain of
pure water.

62 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

STANZA XII,

O Fount of crystal!

O that on thy silvered surface

Thou wouldest mirror forth at once
Those eyes desirable

Which I have in my heart delineated.

The soul vehemently desiring to be united to the Bridegroom,
and seeing that there is no help or succour in created things,
turns towards Faith, as to that which gives it the most vivid
vision of the Beloved, and adopts it as the means to that end.
And, indeed, there is no other way of attaining to true union,
to the spiritual espousals of God, according to the words of
the prophet: ‘I will espouse thee to Me in faith.’ * In this
fervent desire it cries out in the words of this stanza, which
are in effect this: O Faith of Christ, my Spouse! O that
thou wouldest manifest clearly those truths of the Beloved,
secretly and obscurely infused—for faith is, as theologians say,
an obscure habit—so that thy informal and obscure com-
munications may be in a moment clear; O that thou wouldest
separate thyself formally from these truths—for faith is a
veil over the truths of God—and reveal them perfectly in
glory.

‘O Fount of crystal !’ Faith is called crystal for two reasons:
1. Because it is of Christ the Bridegroom, 2. Because it
has the property of crystal, pure in truth, a limpid fountain
clear of error and of natural forms. It is a fountain because
the waters of all spiritual goodness flow from it into the soul.
Christ our Lord, speaking to the woman of Samaria, calls
faith a fountain, saying: ‘ the water that I will give him shall
become in him a fountain of water springing up into life
everlasting.’ f This water is the Spirit, which they who

* Os, ii. 20, + S. John iy, 14,

5
i a?

ss FACE OF GOD IN THE FOUNTAIN OF FAITI. 63
- =

"believe in Him shall receive by faith. ‘Now this He said of the
_ Spirit which they should receive who believed in Him.’ *

OQ that on thy silvered surface.’ The articles and defini-
tions of the Faith are called silvered surfaces. Faith is com-
_ pared to silver as to the propositions which it teaches, as to the
truth and substance itinvolves,to gold. This very substance
_ which we now believe, concealed by the silver veil of faith,
we shall behold and enjoy hereafter when it shall be revealed,
_ and the gold of faith made manifest. Thus the Psalmist,
_ speaking of it, saith : ‘When ye sleep in the midst of your
- borders, ye shall be as a dove, whose wings are covered with
silver, and her pinions with flaming gold.’+ That is, if we
shut the eyes of the intellect against all things above us and
beneath us—this is to sleep in the midst of our borders—we
shall rest in faith, which is the dove, whose wings—that is, the
truth of it—are covered with silver: for in this life faith sets
its truths before us obscurely beneath a veil. This is the
reason why the soul calls them silvered surfaces. The golden
pinions of faith means the time when faith shall have been
consummated in the clear Vision of God; then the substance
of faith, the silver veil having been removed, will shine as
gold. Faith reveals tous God Himself, but concealed beneath
the silver of faith, but it reveals God none the less. So if a
man gives us a vessel covered with silver, which is made of
_ gold, he gives us in reality a vessel of gold, though the gold
be covered over. Thus, when the Bride in the Canticle was
_ longing for the fruition of God, He promised it to her so far
_ as the state of this life admitted of it, saying: ‘ We will make
_ thee chains of gold inlaid with silver..t~ He promised Him-
_ self to her under the veil of faith. Hence the soul addresses
Faith, saying: ‘O that on thy silvered surface ’"—the defini-
tions of faith which hide the gold of the Divine splendours,

* §, John vii. 39. t Pe. lxvii, 14 t Cant, i. 10,

STANZA
XII

we
love that we

64 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE,

which are the desirable eyes—‘ thou wouldest mirror forth
at once those eyes desirable !’

The eyes are the splendours and truths of God, which are
set before us hidden and informal in the definitions of the
faith. Thusthe words sayin substance: O that Thou would-—
est formally and explicitly reveal to me those hidden truths
which Thou teachest implicitly and obscurely in the defini-
tions of the Faith; according to my earnest desire. Those
truths are called eyes, because of the special presence of the
Beloved of which the soul is conscious, believing Him to be
perpetually looking through them.

‘Which I have in my heart delineated.’ The soul here
says that these truths are delineated in the heart, that is, in
the intellect and the will. It is through the intellect that
these truths are infused into the soul by faith. They are said
to be delineated because the knowledge of them is not per-
fect. As asketch is not a perfect picture, so the knowledge
of faith is not a perfect understanding. The truths, there-
fore, infused into the soul by faith, are as it were sketches,
and when the clear vision shall be granted, then they will
be as a perfect and finished picture, according to the words of
the Apostle: ‘When that which is perfect shall come, that
which is in part shall be done away.’* ‘That which is
perfect’ is the clear vision, and ‘that which is in part’ is the
knowledge of faith. ;

Beside the delineation of faith, there is another delineation
of love in the soul that loves, that is, in the will, in which
the face of the Beloved is so deeply and vividly pictured,

‘when the union of love occurs, that it may be truly said,

the Beloved lives in the loving soul, and the loving soul in
the Beloved. Love produces such a resemblance by the
transformation of those who mutually love that one may be

* 1 Cor. xiii. 10,

LOVE BEGETS LIKENESS AND UNION. 65
said to be the other, and both but one. The reason is, that
- inthe union and transformation of love, one gives himself up
to the other as his possession, and each resigns, abandons,
and exchanges himself for the other, and both become
_ but one in the transformation wrought by love.

__ This is the meaning of 8S. Paul when he said: ‘I live, now,
not I, but Christ liveth in me.’* In that he saith: ‘I live,
now, not I,’ his meaning is, that though he lived, yet the
- life he lived was not his own, because he was transformed
_ in Christ: that his life was Divine rather than human ; and
accordingly, he saith: it was not he that lived, but Christ
_ Who lived in him. We may therefore say, according to
4 this likeness of transformation, that his life and the life of
Christ were one by the union of love. This will be perfect
in Heaven in the Divine life of all those who shall merit
the Beatific Vision; for, transformed in God, they will live
the life of God and not their own, since the life of God will
F be theirs. Then they will say in truth: We live, but not
we ourselves, for God liveth in us.
_ Now this may take place in this life, as in the case of
8. Paul, but not perfectly and completely, though the soul
should attain to such a transformation of love as shall be
Spiritual marriage, which is the highest estate it can
reach in this life; because all this is but the shadowing
forth of love, if compared with the perfect image of trans-
formation in glory. Yet, when this shadow of transforma-
tion is attained in this life, it is a great blessing, because
the Beloved is so greatly pleased therewith. He desires
that the Bride should have Him thus delineated in her
heart; for He saith unto her: ‘Put Me as a seal upon thy
as a seal upon thy arm.’¢ The heart here signifies
soul, wherein God in this life dwells as an impression

* Galat. ii. 20. t Cant. viii. 6.
VOL. IL. F

The shadow
of the trans-
formation

in glory.

=

Love thinks
nothing of
rf)

66 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

of the seal of faith, and the arm is the resolute will, where
He is as the impressed signet of love.

Such is the state of the soul at this time. I speak but
little of it, not willing to leave it altogether untouched,
though no language can describe it.

The very substance of soul and body seems to be dried up
by thirst after this living fountain of God, for the thirst resem-
bles that of David when he cried out, *‘ As the hart panteth
after the fountains of waters, so my soul panteth after Thee,
O God. My soul hath thirsted after the strong living God;
when shall I come and appear before the face of God?’* So
oppressive is this thirst to the soul, that it counts it as no-
thing to break through the camp of the Philistines, like the
valiant men of David, to draw ‘water out of the cistern of
Bethlehem,’ + which is Christ. The trials of this world, the
rage of the devil, and the pains of hell, are nothing to pass
through, in order to plunge into this fathomless fountain of
love. To this we may apply those words in the Canticle: ©
‘ Love is strong as death, jealousy is hard as hell.’t It is
incredible how vehement are the longings and sufferings of
the soul when it sees itself on the point of tasting this good,
and at the same time sees it withheld; for the nearer the
object desired, the greater the pangs of its denial: * Before I
eat,’ saith Job, ‘I sigh, and as overflowing waters so is my
roaring’§ for my food. God is meant here by food; for in
proportion to the soul’s longing for food, and its knowledge
of God, is the pain it suffers.

INTRODUCTION.

Tue source of the grievous sufferings of the soul at this
time, is the consciousness of its own emptiness of God—while
it is drawing nearer and nearer to Him—and also the thick
darkness with the spiritual fire, which dry and purify it, so that,

* Ps, xli,1,2. t1Paral.xi18. {Cant.viii6, — § Jobiii. 24,

DARK APPROACH TO DIVINE LIGHT. 67

its purification ended, it may be united with God. For until
God sends forth a special ray of Divine light into the soul, He
_is to it intolerable darkness when He is even near to it in
spirit, for the supernatural light by its very brightness ob-
secures the mere natural light. David referred to this when he
_ said: ‘ Clouds and darkness are round-about Him....a
fire shall go before Him.’* And again: ‘He made darkness
_ His covert; His pavilion round about Him, dark waters in
the clouds of the air. At the brightness that was before Him
_ the clouds passed, hail and coals of fire.’t The soul that
_ approaches God feels Him to be all this more and more the
_ further it advances, until He shall cause it to enter within
the Divine brightness through the transformation of love. But
4 the comfort and consolations of God are, by His infinite good-
hess, proportional to the darkness and emptiness of the soul,
___ as it is written, ‘The darkness thereof, and the light thereof,
__ are alike to Thee.’{ And because He humbles souls and wearies
_ them, while He is exalting them and making them glorious,
He sends into the soul, in the midst of its weariness, certain
_ Divine rays from Himself, in such gloriousness and strength
_ of love as to stir it up from its very depths, and to change its
whole natural condition. Thus the soul, in great fear and
natural awe, addresses the Beloved in the first words of the

following stanza, the remainder of which is His reply:

hy STANZA XIII.

Turn them away, O my Beloved!
I fly away.

THE BRIDEGROOM.

Return, My Dove!
The wounded hart

% Looms on the hill
* In the air of thy flight and is refreshed.

: Amid those fervent affections of love, such as the soul has

© Pa, xevi. 2. + Ps. xvii. 12, 13. t Ps, exxxviii. 12.
j r2

68 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

His bride, tenderly, lovingly, and with great strength of love;
for ordinarily the graces and visits of God are great in propor-
tion to the greatness of those fervours and longings of love
which have gone before. And, as the soul has so anxiously
prayed for the Divine eyes—as in the foregoing stanza—the
Beloved reveals to it some glimpses of His grandeur and
Godhead, according to its desires. These Divine rays strike
the soul so profoundly and so vividly, that it is rapt into an
ecstasy which in the beginning is attended with great physical
suffering and natural fear. Hence the soul, unable to endure
its ecstasies in a body so frail, cries out, Turn away thine
eyes from me.

‘Turn them away, O my Beloved!’ that is, Thy Divine
eyes, for they make me fly away out of myself to the heights of
contemplation, and my natural force cannot endure them. This
the soul says because it thinks it has escaped from the burden
of the flesh, which was the object of its desires; it therefore
prays the Beloved to turn away His eyes; that is, not to show
them in the body, where it cannot endure or enjoy them as it
would, but to reveal them to it in its flight from the body.
The Bridegroom denies the request and impedes the flight,
saying: ‘Return, My Dove!’ for the communications I
make to thee now are not those of the state of glory; but
return to me, for I am He whom thou, wounded with love,
art seeking, and I, too, as the hart, wounded with thy love,
begin to show Myself to thee in the heights of contemplation,
and am refreshed and delighted by My love for thy regard.

‘Turn them away, O my Beloved!’ The soul, because of its
intense longing after the Divine eyes, that is, the Godhead,
receives interiorly from the Beloved such communications and
knowledge of God as compel it to cry out, ‘ Turn them away,
O my Beloved!’ Such is the wretchedness of our mortal
nature, that we cannot endure—even when it is offered to us
—but at the cost of our life, that which is the very life of

7 —

GLANCE OF THE DIVINE EYES. 69

the soul, and the object of its earnest desires, namely, the STANZA
knowledge of the Beloved. Thus the soul is compelled to say,
with regard to the eyes so earnestly, so anxiously sought for,
and in so many ways—when they become visible—* Turn
them away.’

So great, at times, is the suffering of the soul during these Physical pain
ecstatic visitations—and there is no other pain which so enought
wrenches the very bones, and which so oppresses our natural
_ forces—that, were it not for the special interference of God,

death would ensue. And, in truth, such it is to the soul, the
object of these visitations, for it seems as if it were released
_ from the body anda stranger to the flesh. Such graces cannot
be perfectly received in the body, because the spirit of man
is lifted up to the communion of the Spirit of God, Who visits
the soul, and it is therefore of necessity, in some measure, a
stranger to the body. Hence it is that the flesh suffers, and
consequently the soul in it, by reason of their union in one
person. The great agony of the soul, therefore, in these
visitations, and the great fear that overwhelms it when God
deals with it in the supernatural way, forces it to cry out,
‘Turn them away, O my Beloved!’

But it is not to be supposed, however, that the soul really What is pain

wishes-Him to turn away His eyes; for this is nothing else but iey
_ the expression of mere.natural awe. Yea, rather, cost they
what they may, the soul would not willingly miss these visita-
_ tions and favours of the Beloved; for though the natural
man may suffer, the spiritual man flies to this supernatural
- recollection, in order to enjoy the spirit of the Beloved, the
object of its prayers and desires. Still, the soul will not
admit of these visitations in the body—when it cannot have
the perfect fruition of them, except in a slight degree and in
_ pain—but in the flight of the disembodied spirit when it can
_ enjoy them freely. Hence it says, Turn away from me;
_ that is, do not visit me in the flesh,

—— wet

70 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

‘I fly away ;’ that is, out of the flesh, that Thou mayest
show them to me out of the body—for they force me to fly
away out of the body. We must remember, in order to
have a clearer conception of this flight of the soul, that the
spirit of man, in this visitation of the Spirit of God, is rapt
upwards in Divine communion; the body is abandoned, all
its acts and feelings are suspended, because the soul is ab-
sorbed in God. Thus the Apostle, speaking of his own ecstasy,
saith: ‘Whether in the body or out of the body, I cannot
tell.’* But we are not to suppose that the soul really abandons
the body, and that the natural life is destroyed, but only that
its actions have then ceased. This is the reason why the
body remains insensible in raptures and ecstasies, and un-
conscious of the most painful inflictions. These are not like
the swoons and faintings of the natural life, which cease on

- the application of pain. They who have not yet arrived at

perfection are liable to these visitations, for they happen to
those who are walking in the way of proficients. They who
are already perfect receive these Divine visitations in peace
and in the sweetness of love: their ecstasies cease, for they
were only graces to prepare them for this more perfect
condition.

This is an appropriate opportunity for discussing the
difference between raptures, ecstasies, other elevations and
subtile flights of the spirit, to which spiritual persons are
liable ; but, as my object is to do nothing more than explain
this canticle, as I undertook in the prologue, I leave the
subject for those who are better qualified than I am. I
do this the more readily, because our mother, the blessed
Teresa of Jesus, has written admirably on this matter, whose
writings I hope to see soon published. The flight of the
soul in this place, then, is to be understood of ecstasy, and of
its being rapt up to God.

* 2 Cor. xii. 3,

VOICE OF THE BELOVED. 71

_- The Beloved replies, ‘Return, My Dove.’ The soul was
_ joyfully quitting the body in its spiritual flight, thinking that
its natural life was over, and that it was about to enter into
the everlasting fruition of the Bridegroom, and remain with
Him without a veil between them. He, however, restrains it
in its flight, saying, ‘ Return, My Dove.’

It is as if He said, O My Dove, return from thy lofty and
rapid flight of contemplation, in the love wherewith thou art

STANZA
xm.

inflamed, in the simplicity wherein thou goest—these are Three marks

three characteristics of the dove—from that eminence where
thou aimest at the true fruition of Myself—the time is not
yet come for knowledge so high—return, and submit thyself to
that lower degree of it which I communicate in thy raptures.

‘The wounded hart.’ The hart is the Bridegroom, to which
He compares himself here. The hart climbs up naturally to
high places, and hastens, when wounded, to the cooling
waters. If he hears his consort moan, and sees that she is

spirit,

wounded, he runs to her at once, comforts, and caresses her.

So the Bridegroom now caresses the Bride; for, seeing her
wounded with His love, He too, hearing her moaning, is
wounded Himself with her love; for among lovers the wound
of one is the wound of the other, and they have the same
feelings in common. The Bridegroom, therefore, saith in
effect: Return, my Bride, to me; for as thou art wounded
with the love of me, I too, like the hart, am wounded by love

_ forThee. I am like the hart, looming on the top of the hill.

__ * Looms on the hill;’ that is, on the heights of contempla-
tion, to which the soul attains in its flight. Contemplation is
_ that lofty eminence where God, in this life, begins to commu-
_ nicate Himself to the soul, and to show Himself, but not

_ distinctly. Hence it is said, ‘Looms on the hill,’ because he
- does not appear clearly. However profound the knowledge
_ of Himself which God may grant to the soul in this life, it is,
. after all, but an indistinct vision. We now come to the third

72 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

stanza characteristic of the hart, which is referred to in the following

line :—

Charity in ‘In the air of thy flight, and is refreshed.’ The flight of

the Holy —_ the soul is ecstatic contemplation, and the air is that spirit of

B. Trinity, love which it produces, and which is here appropriately

Kuoginise, called ‘air ;’ for the Holy Ghost, who is Love, in Holy Scrip-
ture, is compared to air, because He is the Breath of the
Father and the Son. As then the Holy Ghost is the Air of
flight, that is as He proceeds and is breathed forth by the way
of love from the Contemplation and Wisdom of the Father
and the Son; so here the Bridegroom calls the love of the
soul ‘air,’ because it proceeds from the contemplation and
knowledge of God which it has at this time.

Observe, that the Bridegroom does not say He comes at
the flight, but at the air of the flight of the soul; because,
properly speaking, God does not communicate Himself
because of that flight, that is, the knowledge it has of God,

Imago | j,, but because of the love which is the fruit of that knowledge.
For as love is the union of the Father and the Son, so is it
also of God and the soul.

Union with Notwithstanding the highest knowledge of God, and con-

God

knowing and templation itself, together with the knowledge of all mysteries,
the soul without love is nothing worth, and can do nothing,
as the Apostle saith, towards its union with God.* In another
place he saith: ‘ Have charity, which is the bond of perfec-
tion.t This charity and love of the soul makes the
Bridegroom run to the fountain of the Bride’s love, as the
cooling waters attract the thirsty and the wounded hart, to
refresh himself therein.

‘And is refreshed.’ As the air cools and refreshes him who
is wearied with the heat, so the air of love refreshes and
comforts him who burns with the fire of love. The fire of

* 1 Cor. xiii. 2. + Coloss, iii, 14.

on | a oe ee ~ i

a? ee, nee er oe

y 4 ‘ an oe ot, ie. / “
ay Z °

SUPER OMNIA CARITAS. 73

love hath this peculiarity, that the air which cools and
- vefreshes it is an increase of the fire itself. To him who

loves, love is a flame that burns with the desire of burning

more and more, like the flame of material fire. The con-

summation of this desire of burning more and more, with the

love of the Bride, which is the air of her flight, is here called

refreshment. The Bridegroom says in substance: I burn
more and more because of the ardour of Thy love, for love
kindles love.

God does not establish His grace and love in the soul but in
proportion to the good will of that soul’s love. He, therefore,
that will love God must strive to love Him more and more,
that his love fail not; for so, if we may thus speak, will he
move God to show him more love, and to take greater com-
fort in his soul. In order to attain to such a degree of love,
he must practise those things of which the Apostle speaks,
saying: ‘Charity is patient, is kind: charity envieth not,
dealeth not perversely; is not puffed up, is not ambitious,
seeketh not her own, is not provoked to anger, thinketh no
evil, rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth with the truth ;
beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things,
endureth all things.’ *

INTRODUCTION.

*Wuen the dove—that is, the soul—was flying on the gales of
love over the waters of the deluge—that is the weariness and
longing of its love—and ‘not finding where her foot might
rest,’ f the compassionate Noe, in this last flight, put forth the
hand of his mercy, and caught her, and brought her into

_ the ark of his love. Thus God does when He says to the
_ soul, ‘Return, My dove.” When He thus takes it into His

* 1 Cor. xiii. 4—7. +t Genes. viii. 9.

The day of
the soul’s
espousals,

74 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

hands, the soul finds all it desired, and more than it can
ever express, and so it begins to sing the praises of the
Beloved, celebrating the magnificence which it feels and
enjoys in that union, saying :

STANZAS XIV., XV.

THE BRIDE,

My Beloved is the mountains,

The solitary wooded valleys,

The strange islands,

The roaring torrents,

The whisper of the amorous gales ;

The tranquil night

At the approaches of the dawn,

The silent music,

The murmuring solitude,

The supper which revives, and enkindles love,

Before I begin to explain these stanzas, I must observe, in
order that they and those which follow may be better under-

stood, that this spiritual flight signifies a certain high estate

and union of love, whereunto, after many spiritual exercises,
God is wont to elevate the soul: it is called the Spiritual Es-
pousals of the Word, the Son of God. In the very beginning
of this, the first time that God so elevates the soul, He reveals
to it great things of Himself, makes it beautiful in majesty
and grandeur, adorns it with graces and gifts, and endows it
with honour, and with the knowledge of Himself, as a bride
is adorned on the day of her espousals. On this happy day
the soul not only ceases from its anxieties and loving com-
plaints, but is, moreover, adorned with all grace, entering
into a state of peace and delight, and of the sweetness of love,
as it appears from these stanzas, in praise of the magnificence
of the Beloved, which the soul recognises in Him, and enjoys
in the union of the espousals.

In the stanzas that follow, the soul speaks no more of its

anxieties and sufferings, as before, but of the sweet and.

—_———

Oe a

- SONG OF THE BRIDE-SOUL. 75

‘its Ptrdubles are over. These two stanzas, which I am about to ————

a. contain all that God is wont at this time to bestow

_ upon the soul; but we are not to suppose that all souls, thus

_ far advanced, receive all that is here described, either in the

_ same way or in the same degree of knowledge and of con-
sciousness. Some souls receive more, others less; some in

_ one way, some in another; and yet all may be in the state of

_ the spiritual espousals. All that is given is here described,

_ 80 that these stanzas may comprehend the whole.

As in the ark of Noe there were many chambers for the The Divine

-_ different kinds of animals, and ‘all food that may be eaten,’* Bosom
80 the soul, in its flight to the Divine ark of the bosom of
, _ God, beholds there not only the many mansions of its

____ Father's house, but also all the food, that is, all the grandeurs
____ in which the soul may rejoice, and which are here referred to
_ by the common terms of these stanzas. These are substan-
tially as follows:

_ Inthis Divine union the soul hasa vision and foretaste of treasures ot
_ abundant and inestimable riches, and finds there all the and lover
_ repose and refreshment it desired; it attains to the secrets
_ of God, and to a strange knowledge of Him, which is the
food of those who know Him most; it is conscious of the
_ awful power of God beyond all other power and might,
_ tastes of the wonderful sweetness and delight of the spirit,
_ finds its true rest and the Divine light which shines forth in
_ the harmony of the creatures and works of God; it feels

itself filled with all good, emptied and delivered from all evil,
_ and, above all, rejoices in the inestimable banquet of love
_ which confirms it in love. This is the substance of these two
stanzas,
The Bride here says that her Beloved in Himself and to

* Genes, vi. 21.

76 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

her is all the objects she enumerates; for in the ecstatic

- communications of God, the soul feels and understands the

truth of the saying of 8. Francis: ‘ My God and my all.’ And
because God is all, and the soul, and the good of all, the
communication involved in this ecstasy is made known by the
similitude of the goodness of all things, as I shall show when I
explain the words of these stanzas. All that is here set forth
is in God eminently in an infinite way, or rather, every one
of these grandeurs is God, and all of them together are God.
Inasmuch as the soul is united to God, it feels all things to
be God according to the words of 8. John, ‘ What was made,
in Him was life.’* But we are not to understand this con-
sciousness of the soul as if it saw the creatures in God as
we see material objects in the light, but that it feels all
things to be God in this fruition of them; neither are we to
imagine that the soul sees God essentially and clearly because
it perceives Him so profoundly ; for this is only a strong and
abundant communication from Him, a glimmering light of

oh what He is in Himself, by which the soul discerns this good-

ness of all things, as I proceed to explain.

‘My Beloved is the mountains.’ Mountains are high,
fertile, extensive, beautiful, lovely, flowery, and odorous.
These mountains my Beloved is to me.

‘ The solitary wooded valleys.’ Solitary valleys are tranquil,
pleasant, cooling, shady, abounding in sweet waters, and by
the variety of trees growing in them, and by the melody of
the birds that frequent them, enliven and delight the senses ;
their solitude and silence procure us a refreshing rest. These
valleys my Beloved is to me.

‘The strange islands.’ Strange islands are girt by the sea;
they are also distant and unknown to the commerce of men.
They produce things very different from those with which we

* 8, John i, 3,4, See Stanza viii. p. 46.

Peg e a re a er Bee ee ae
act d = ~~ : . a ~/
* -, ai 7 :

«GOD «IS THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY. 17

are conversant, in strange ways, and with qualities hitherto
_ unknown, so as to surprise those who behold them, and to fill
_ them with wonder. Thus, then, by reason of the great and
marvellous wonders, and the strange knowledge, far beyond
the common notions of men, which the soul beholds in God,
it calls Him the strange islands. We say of a man that he is
strange for one of two reasons: either because he withdraws
himself from the society of his fellows, or because he is
singular or distinguished. For these two reasons together
God is called strange by the soul. He is not only all that is
strange in undiscovered islands, but His ways, judgments,
and works are also strange, new, and marvellous to men.

It is nothing wonderful that God should be strange to men
who have never seen Him, seeing that He is also strange to the
Angels and the holy souls who behold Him; for they neither
can nor shall ever behold Him perfectly. Yea, even to the
day of the last Judgment they will see in Him so much that
is new in His deep judgments, in His works of mercy and
justice, as to excite their wonder more and more. Thus God
is the strange islands not to men only but to the Angels
also; only to Himself is He neither strange nor new.

‘ The roaring torrents.’ Torrents have three characteristics.
1. They overflow all that is in their course. 2. They fill all
hollows. 3. They overpower all sounds by their own. And
hence the soul, feeling most sweetly that these three charac-
teristics belong to God, says: ‘My Beloved is the roaring
torrents.’

As to the first characteristic, the soul feels itself to be so
overwhelmed with the torrent of the Spirit of God, and so
_ violently overpowered by it, that all the waters in the world
seem to it to have surrounded it, and to have drowned all its
previous actions and passions, Though this be violent, yet there
is nothing painful in it, for these rivers are rivers of peace,
as it is written: ‘I will bring upon her, as it were, a river of

XIV., XV.

God never

Angels or

' 9, He fills its
capacity.

8. His voice
penetrates it,

Examples
from Holy
Scripture ;
1. The
Apostles,

2. Our Lord
Jesus,

78 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE,

peace, and as an overflowing torrent the glory of the Gen-
tiles."* That is, I will bring upon the soul, as it were, a
river of peace, and a torrent overflowing with glory. Thus
this Divine overflowing of the soul fills it, like the roaring
torrents, with peace and glory. As to the second charac-
teristic, the soul feels that this Divine water is now filling
the vessels of its humility and the emptiness of its desires, as
it is written: ‘ He hath exalted the humble, and filled the
hungry with good.’f The third characteristic which the soul
is now conscious of is a spiritual sound and voice above all
other sounds and voices in the world. The explanation of
this will take a little time. -

This voice, or this murmuring sound of the waters, is an
overflowing so abundant that it fills the soul with good, and
a power so mighty seizing upon it as to seem not only the
sound of many waters, but a most loud roaring of thunder.
This voice is a spiritual voice, unattended by material sounds
or the pain and torment of them, but rather coming with
grandeur, power, might, delight, and glory; it is, as it were,
a voice, an infinite interior sound, which endows the soul
with power and might. The Apostles heard in spirit this
voice when the Holy Ghost descended upon them in the
sound ‘as of a mighty wind.’t In order to mark this
spiritual voice, interiorly spoken, the sound was heard exte-
riorly, as of a rushing wind, by all those who werein Jeru-
salem. This exterior manifestation reveals what the apostles
interiorly received, namely, fulness of power and might.

So also our Lord Jesus, when He prayed to the Father
because of His distress and the rage of His enemies, heard an
interior voice from Heaven, comforting Him in His Sacred
Humanity. The sound, solemn and grave, was heard exte-
riorly by the Jews, some of whom ‘said that it thundered,

* Is, Ixvi. 12. + 8. Luke i. 52. t Acts ii. 2.

VOICE OF GOD UPON THE WATERS. 79

; hers said an Angel hath spoken to Him.’* The voice

outwardly heard was the outward sign and expression of that

a strength and power which Christ then inwardly received in His

human nature. We are not to suppose that the soul does

_ not hear in spirit the spiritual voice because it is also

outwardly heard. The spiritual voice is the effect on the

soul of the audible voice, as material sounds strike the ear,
and impress the meaning of it on the intellect. This is the

_ meaning of David when he said, ‘He will give to His voice

_ the yoice of power;’f{ this power is the interior voice. He

_ will give to His voice, that is, the outward voice, audibly

heard, the voice of power which is felt within. God is an

infinite voice, and communicating Himself thus to the soul

__ produces the effect of an infinite voice.

4: This voice was heard by S. John, saying: ‘I heard a voice
from Heaven as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of
great thunder.’ And, lest it should be supposed that a voice

_ so strong was painful and harsh, he adds immediately, ‘The
voice which I heard was as the voice of harpers harping on
their harps.’t Ezechiel says that the sound of many waters

_ was ‘as it were the voice of the Most High God, § profoundly
and sweetly communicated in it. This voice is infinite,

_ because, as I have said, it is God who communicates Himself ;
speaking in the soul, He adapts Himself to each soul, giving
them the voice of power according to their capacity, and
filling them with grandeur and delight. And so the Bride
sings in the Canticle: ‘Let Thy voice sound in my ears, for

Thy voice is sweet.’ ||

_ §The whisper of the amorous gales.’ Two things are to be

_ considered here—gales and the whisper. The amorous gales

are the virtues and graces of the Beloved, which, because of

its union with the Bridegroom, play around the soul, and

* S. John xii, 28, 29, + Ps, Ixvii. 34, } Apoc. xiv. 2.
§ Exzech, i, 24. | Cant. ii, 14.

3. David.

4. 8. John,

5. Ezechiel,

80 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

most lovingly sent forth, touch it in its inmost substance, —
The whisper of the gales is a most sublime, and sweet
understanding of God and of His attributes, which over-
flows into the intellect from the contact of the attributes of
God with the substance of the soul. This is the most supreme
delight of which the soul is capable in this life.

That we may understand this the better, we must keep in
mind, that as in a gale two things are observable—the touch
of it, and the whisper or sound—so there are two things
observable also in the communications of the Bridegroom—
the impression of delight, and the understanding of it. As the
touch of the air is felt in the sense of touch, and the whisper
of it heard in the ear, so also the contact of the virtues of the
Beloved is felt and enjoyed in the touch of the soul, that is,
in the substance thereof, through the instrumentality of the
will, and the understanding of the attributes of God felt in
the hearing of the soul, that is, in the intellect. The gale is
said to blow amorously when it strikes deliciously, satisfying
his desire who is longing for the refreshing which it ministers ;
for it then revives and soothes the sense of touch, and while the
sense of touch is thus soothed, that of hearing also rejoices
and delights in the whisper of the gale more than that of the
touch, because the sense of hearing is more spiritual, or, to
speak with greater correctness, is more nearly connected with
the spiritual than that of touch, and the delight thereof is
more spiritual than is that of the touch. So also, inasmuch
as this touch of God greatly satisfies and comforts the sub-
stance of the soul, sweetly fulfilling its desire, that is,
admitting it to union; this union, or touch, is called
amorous gales, because, as I said before, the virtues of the
Beloved are by it communicated to the soul lovingly and
sweetly, and through it the whisper of intelligence to the in-
tellect. It is called whisper, because, as the whisper of the air
penetrates subtilely into the organ of hearing, so this most

os - err -— ——-
Besos —— -
im af ot, of Seen
Tee Tons ae, re ry pea

tee ‘ ;
~ 7%, he ay : on ‘

WHISPER OF THE GENTLE AIR. 81

st ub bti e and delicate intelligence enters with marvellous
. stness and delight into the inmost substance of the soul,
which is the highest of all delights.
_ The reason of this is that substantial truth is now com-
municated intelligibly and denuded of all accidents and
images, and is communicated to that intellect which philo-
-sophers call passive or passible, because it is inactive and
vithout any natural efforts of its own during this communi-
cation. This is the highest delight of the soul, because it is
in the intellect, which is the seat of fruition, as theologians
Preach, and fruition is the vision of God. Some theologians
think, inasmuch as this whisper signifies the substantial intel-
_ ligence, that our father Elias had a vision of God in the
_ delicate whisper of the air, which he heard at the mouth
i 3 of the cave. The Holy Scripture calls it ‘the whistling of a
gentle air,’ * because knowledge is begotten in the intellect by
the subtile and delicate communication of the Spirit. The
soul calls it here the whisper of the amorous gales, because it
flows into the intellect from the loving communication of the
Virtues of the Beloved. This is why it is called the whisper
of the amorous gales,
. This Divine whisper which enters in by the ear of the soul
isnot only substantial intelligence, but a manifestation also of
the truths of the Divinity, and a revelation of secret mysteries
hereof. For in general, in the Holy Scriptures, every com-
junication of God said to enter in by the ear is a manifesta-
tion of pure truths to the intellect, or a revelation of the
8 of God. These are revelations or purely spiritual
8, andare communicated directly to the soul without the
rvention of the senses, and thus, what God communicates
ih the spiritual ear is most profound and most certain.
ien S. Paul would express the greatness of the revelations

. * 3 Kings xix. 12.
von, i. G

Intellect the
ear which
hears the
vine whisper.

?

i
5 he
, iw

82 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

stanzas made to him he did not say, I sw or I perceived secret
~ words: but, ‘I heard secret words which it is not granted to
Exampleofs. man to utter.’* It is thought from these words that 8S. Paul
Job. saw God, as our father Elias, in the whisper of a gentle air.
For as ‘faith cometh by hearing,’—so the Apostle teaches—
that is by the hearing of the material ear, so also that
which faith involves, the intelligible truth, cometh by
spiritual hearing. The prophet Job, speaking to God, when
He revealed Himself unto him, teaches this truth distinctly,
saying: ‘ With the hearing of the ear I have heard Thee, but
now my eye seeth Thee.’ ¢ Itis then clear that to hear with
the ear of the soul, is to see with the eye of the passive —
intellect. It is not said with the hearing of the ears, but with
the hearing of the ear; nor, with the seeing of the eyes, but
with the eye of the intellect ; the hearing of the ear is, there-
fore, the vision of the intellect.
Perfect | Still we are not to think that what the soul perceives,
galy in though pure truth, can be the perfect and clear fruition
of Heaven. For though it be free from accidents, it is
not clear, but rather obscure, because it is contemplation,
and that, as S. Dionysius saith, ‘is a ray of darkness,’ and
thus we may say that it is a ray and an image of fruition,
because it occurs in the intellect, the seat of fruition. This
substantial truth, called here a whisper, is the desirable eyes
which the Beloved showed to the Bride, who unable to bear
the vision therefore cried, ‘ Turn away Thine eyes from me.’ f
There is a passage in the book of Job very much to the |
purpose, and strongly corroborative of what I have said of )
rapture and espousals. I shall cite the whole passage first, |
then briefly explain those parts of it which refer to the
subject before me, and that done, I shall then explain
the other stanza. ‘Now there was a word spoken to me in

|
:

* 2 Cor. xii. 4. + Job xlii. 5. t Cant, vi. 4.

as it were, received the veins of its whisper. In the horror

of a vision by night, when deep sleep is wont to hold Brample of
men, fear seized upon me and trembling, and all my Themanite.

bones were affrighted: and when a spirit passed before me
the hair of my flesh stood up. There stood one whose
_ countenance I knew not, an image before my eyes, and I
heard a voice as it were of a gentle wind.’* This passage
contains almost all I said about raptures in the thirteenth
Stanza, which begins: ‘Turn them away, O my Beloved.’ The
_* word spoken in private’ to Eliphaz is that secret communi-
~ cation which the soul was not able to endure, and, therefore,
eried out : ‘Turn them away,O my Beloved.’ Eliphaz says that
his ‘ear by stealth as it were, received the veins of its whisper.’
_ By that is meant the pure substance of truth which the intel-
_ lect receives, for the ‘ veins’ here denote the interior essence.
‘The whisper is that communication and touch of the virtues
whereby the said substance of truth is communicated
to the intellect. It is called a whisper because of its great
gentleness. And the soul calls it the amorous gales because
itis so lovingly communicated. It is said to be received as it
were by stealth, for that which is stolen is alienated, so this
secret is alien to man, speaking in the order of nature,
because that which he received does. not appertain to him
lly, and thus it was beyond the power of nature to
receive it; neither was it. granted to S. Paul to repeat what
e@ heard. For this reason the Prophet saith twice: ‘My
to myself, my secret to myself.’ t
q When Eliphaz speaks of the horror of the vision by night,
ind of the fear and trembling that seized upon him, he refers
the awe and dread that encompass the soul when it falls
an ecstasy, which in its natural strength it is unable to

* Job iv, 12—16. + Is, xxiv, 16.
G2

.-

84 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

stanzas endure. The Prophet gives us to understand that, as when

sleep is about to fall upon men, a certain vision which they

spired by calla nightmare is wont to oppress and terrify them in the

vintations interval between sleeping and waking which is the moment of
the approach of sleep, so in the spiritual passage from the
sleep of natural ignorance to the waking of the supernatural
understanding, which is the beginning of an ecstasy, the spi-
ritual vision then revealed, makes the soul fear and tremble.
‘All my bones were affrighted, that is, were shaken and
disturbed ; by this he meant a certain dislocation of the bones
which takes place when the soul falls into an ecstasy. This
is clearly expressed by Daniel when he saw the Angel, saying:
‘O my lord, at the sight of thee my joints are loosed.’ * ‘When ~ |
a spirit passed before me,’ that is, when I was foreed to
transcend the ways and limitations of nature in eestasies and
raptures. ‘The hair of my flesh stood up, that is, my body
was elevated from the ground, and the flesh contracted like
that of a dead man.

The soul nei- ¢ There stood One,’ that is God, Who reveals Himself after

ther knows
nor beholds this manner. ‘ Whose countenance I knew not;’ in these
*

the Essence

gh communications or visions, however high they may be, the
soul neither knows nor beholds the face and Essence of God.
‘An image before my eyes;’ that is, the knowledge of the
secret words was most deep, as it were the image and face of
God; but still this is not the vision of His essence. ‘I heard
the voice as it were of a gentle wind,’ this is the whisper
of the amorous gales—that is, of the Beloved of the soul.

But it is not to be supposed that these visits of God are

always attended by such terrors and shocks of nature, as in
the case of those who are entering in to the state of illu-
mination and perfection, and as in this kind of communica-
tions, namely of ecstasies and raptures; for in others they
take place with great sweetness.

* Dan. x. 16,

STANZA XV.

_ © Tue tranquil night.’ In this spiritual sleep in the bosom
of the Beloved the soul enters into the possession’and fruition
of all the calmness, repose, and quiet of a peaceful night,
_ and receives at the same time in God a certain unfathomable
_ obscure Divine intelligence. This is the reason why the soul
calls the Beloved the tranquil night.
*At the approaches of the dawn.’ This tranquil night is
not like a night of obscurity, but rather like the night when

xiv ae

Aurora of ob-
scure intelli-
day of

the sunrise is drawing nigh. This tranquillity and repose perc kow.

_ in God is not all darkness to the soul, as the Obscure Night,
but rather tranquillity and repose in the Divine light and
- in the new knowledge of God, whereby the mind, most
sweetly tranquil, is elevated upwards to Divine light. This
_ Divine light is here very appropriately called the approaches
_ of the dawn, that is, the twilight; for as the twilight of the
morn disperses the obscurity of the night and reveals the
light of day, so the mind, tranquil and reposing in God, is
_ raised up from the darkness of natural knowledge to the
morning light of the supernatural knowledge of God, not
_ clear, indeed, as I have said, but obscure, like the night at
the approaches of the dawn. For as it is then neither
wholly night nor wholly day, but twilight, so this solitude
and Divine repose is neither perfectly illuminated by the
Divine light, not yet perfectly alien from it.

_ In this tranquillity the intellect is elevated in a strange
way above its natural comprehension to the Divine light: it
is like a man who after a profound sleep opens his eyes to
unexpected light. This knowledge is referred to by David
when he says: ‘ I have watched, and am become as a sparrow,
all alone on the housetop:’* that is, I opened the eyes of

* Pa. ci. 8.

STANZAS

Soul in con-

86 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE,

my intellect, and was raised up above all natural compre-
hension, and I am become solitary, deprived thereof, on the
housetop, lifted up above all earthly considerations. He says
that he was ‘ become as a sparrow,’ all alone, because in this
kind of contemplation the spirit of man is invested with
certain characteristics of the sparrow. These are five in
number :—

1. It frequents high places, and the spirit of man in this
state rises to the highest contemplation.

2. It is ever turning its face in the direction of the wind,
and the spirit of man turns its affections towards the breath
of love, which is God.

3. It isin general solitary, abstaining from the companion-

ship of others, and flying away when they approach it: so
the spirit in contemplation is far away from all worldly
thoughts, lonely in its avoidance of them; neither does it
consent to anything except to this solitude in God.

4, It sings most sweetly, and so also does the spirit at this
time sing unto God; for the praises which it offers up proceed
from the sweetest love, in themselves most pleasing and most
precious in the sight of God. |

5. It is of no definite colour; so also is the perfect spirit,
which in this ecstasy is not only without any tinge of
sensual affection or self-love, but also without any particular
consideration of the things of heaven or earth; neither can
it give any account whatever of them, because it has entered
into the abyss of the knowledge of God.

‘The silent music.’ In this silence and tranquillity of the
night, and in this knowledge of the Divine light, the soul
discerns a marvellous arrangement and disposition of God’s
wisdom in the diversities of His creatures and operations.
All these, and each one of them, have a certain corre-
spondence with God, whereby each, by a voice peculiar to
itself, proclaims what there is in itself of God, so as to form a

.
Sie D. o

—— ee eC _- ——
r >

ee OE Oy al ae ae ee ee ae
om ae, 4: Si aa te a i At! or
- + =f“ & ‘

" UNIVERSAL HYMN OF PRAISE TO GOD. 87

3 : concert of the sublimest melody, transcending all the har-
monies of the world. This is the silent music, because it is

intelligence tranquil and in repose, without audible voice ;

and thus the sweetness of music and the repose of silence

are enjoyed in it. The soul says that the Beloved is the
silent music, because this harmony of spiritual music is in
Him understood and felt.

‘The murmuring solitude.’ This is almost the same as
the silent music. For though the music is inaudible to the
senses and the natural faculties, it is a solitude most full of
sound to the spiritual powers. These powers being in soli-
tude, emptied of all forms and natural apprehensions, may
well receive in spirit, like a resounding voice, the spiritual
impression of the majesty of God in Himself and in His
creatures; as it happened to 8. John, who heard in spirit as
it were ‘the voice of harpers harping on their harps.’*
8. John heard this in spirit: it was not material harps that he

‘heard, but a certain knowledge that he had of the praises of

the Blessed, which every one of them, each in his own degree
of glory, is continually singing before God—which is as it
were music. For as every one of the Saints had the gifts of
God in a different way, so every one of them sings His
praises in a different way, and yet all harmonize in one con-
cert of love, as in music. ;

In the same way, in this tranquil contemplation, the soul
beholds all creatures, not only the highest, but the lowest
also, each one according to the gift of God to it, sending
forth the voice of its witness to what God is. It beholds
each one magnifying Him in its own way, and possessing
Him according to its particular capacity; and thus all these
voices together unite in one strain in praise of God’s
greatness, wisdom, and marvellous knowledge. This is

* Apoe, xiv. 2,

88 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE,

the meaning of those words of the Holy Ghost: * The Spirit

of the Lord hath filled the whole world, and that which
containeth all things hath knowledge of the voice.’* *£ The
voice’ is the murmuring solitude, which the soul is said to
know, namely the witness which all things bear to God.
Inasmuch as the soul hears this music only in solitude and
in estrangement from all outward things, it calls it silent
music and murmuring solitude. These are the Beloved.
‘The supper which revives, and enkindles love.’ Lovers

; find recreation, satisfaction, and love in feasts. And because

the Beloved in this sweet communication produces these three
effects in the soul, He is here said to be the supper that
revives, and enkindles love. In Holy Scripture supper sig-
nifies the Divine vision, for as supper is the conclusion of the
day’s labours, and the beginning of the night’s repose, so the
soul in this tranquil’ knowledge is made to feel that its trials
are over, the possession of good begun, and its love of God
increased. Hence, then, the Beloved is to the soul the supper
that revives, in being the end of its trials, and that enkin-
dles love, in being the beginning of the fruition of all good.
For a clearer perception how the Bridegroom is the
supper of the soul, we must refer to those words of the
Beloved in the Apocalypse: ‘ Behold, I stand at the gate and
knock. If any man shall hear my voice, and open to me
the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and
he with Me.’t It is evident from these words, that He brings
the supper with Him, which is nothing else but His own
sweetness and delights, wherein He rejoiceth Himself, and
which He, uniting Himself to the soul, communicates to it,
making it a partaker of His joy; for this is the meaning of
‘I will sup with him, and he with Me.’ These words describe
the effect of the Divine union of the soul with God, wherein

* Wiad. i. 7. + Apoe, iii. 20.

it 2 > Fa a aa vor |e ee
SPIRITUAL BANQUET OF LOVE. 89

z it shares the very goods of God Himself, Who communicates sranzas
_ them graciously and abundantly to it. Thus the Beloved is ~~"
Himself the supper which revives, and enkindles love, refresh-

ing the soul with His abundance, and enkindling its love in

His graciousness.

ig But before I proceed to explain the stanzas which follow, I Difference
__must observe, that in the state of betrothal, wherein the soul spiritual,

| __ enjoys this tranquillity,and wherein it receives all that it can fie"
_ receive in this life, we are not to suppose its tranquillity to be

- perfect, but reaching only to the higher part of it; because the
sensitive part, except in the state of the spiritual matrimony,
never loses all its imperfect habits, and its powers are never

wholly subdued, as I shall show hereafter. What the soul

receives now, is all that it can receive in the state of betrothal,

for in that-of matrimony the blessings are greater. Though

the bride-soul has great joy in these visits of the Beloved in

the state of betrothal, still it has to suffer from His absence,

to endure trouble and afflictions in the lower part, and at

the hands of the devil. But all this ceases in the state of
spiritual marriage.

INTRODUCTION.

Now that the Bride has the virtues of her soul in their per- Sweet odour
fection, wherein she rejoices in the peaceful visits of her fe te
Beloved, she enjoys at times, in a most sublime way, the
sweetness and fragrance of those virtues, because the Beloved
touches them ; just as we perceive the fragrance and beauty

of flowers when we touch them in their full bloom. In many

of these visits of the Beloved, the soul is in spirit conscious

of those virtues with which God has endowed it, by His giving

- it light for that end. And then the soul with marvellous joy

and sweet love unites them all together, and offers them to the
Beloved as a nosegay of beautiful flowers. The Beloved, in

STANZA
XVI.

Malice of the
devil,

90 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

accepting the offering—for He accepts it then—accepts a
great service of the soul. All this occurs within the soul,
who then feels the Beloved within as on His own couch, for
the soul offers itself, together with all its virtues, which is the
greatest oblation it can make, and this is the highest delight
it receives in the interior converse with God from this gift of
the Beloved.

The devil, beholding this prosperity of the soul, and in his
great malice envying all the good he sees in it, employs all
his power, and has recourse to all his devices, in order>to
thwart it, if possible, even in the slightest degree. He thinks
it of more consequence to keep back the soul, even for an
instant, from the glorious riches of this delight, than to pre-
cipitate others into many mortal sins. Other souls have little
or nothing to lose, while such a soul has much, having gained
great treasures ; for the loss of one grain of refined gold is
greater than the loss of many of the baser metals.

The devil here has recourse to the sensitive appetites, though
they can help him now in general but little or nothing,
because they are mortified, and because he cannot turn them
to any great account in distracting the imagination. Some-
times he stirs up many movements in the sensitive part of the
soul, and causes other vexations, spiritual as well as sensitive,
from which the soul is unable to deliver itself until our Lord
shall send His Angel, as it is written, ‘The Angel of the
Lord shall encamp round about them that fear Him, and
shall deliver them ;’* and so establish peace, both in the
spiritual and sensitive parts of the soul. With a view to show
forth this truth, and to ask this favour, the soul, apprehen-
sive by experience of the craft which the devil makes use
of to thwart this good, addressing itself to the Angels, whose
function itis to suecour it, and to put the evil spirits to flight,
speaks in the words of the following stanza :—

* Ps, xxxiii. 8.

And let no one appear on the hill.

The soul anxious that this interior delight of love, which
is the vineyard, should not be interrupted, either by envious
and malicious devils, or the raging desires of sensuality, or

+ the various comings and goings of the imagination, or any

other consciousness or presence of created things, calls upon
_ the Angels to seize and hinder all these from interrupting
its practice of interior love, in the joy and delight of which
: the soul and the Son of God mutually communicate and
enjoy their virtues and graces.
---—-—- €Catch us the foxes, for our vineyard hath flourished.’
The vineyard is the plantation in this holy soul of all the
virtues which minister to it the wine of sweet smell. The
vineyard of the soul is then flourishing when it is united
in will to the Bridegroom, and delighteth in Him in all
the virtues. Sometimes, as I have said, the memory and
the fancy are assailed by various forms and imaginings, and
divers motions and desires trouble the sensitive part. The
great vanity and diversity of these made David say, when
he felt the inconvenience and the trouble of them as he
was drinking of the sweet wine of the spirit, thirsting
greatly after God: ‘For Thee my soul hath thirsted, for
Thee my flesh, O how many ways.’ *

Here the soul calls the whole troop of desires and sen-
sitive emotions, foxes, because of the great resemblance be-
tween them at this time. As foxes pretend to be asleep

* Ps, lxii. 2,

STANZA
XVL.

Prayer to the

Angels for
help.

92 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

STANZA that they may pounce upon their prey when it comes in
their way, so all the desires and sensitive energies of the
soul are asleep until the flowers of virtue grow, flourish, and
bloom. Then the desires and sensitive energies awake to
resist the Spirit and to try to rule over the soul. ‘The flesh ~
lusteth against the spirit,’* and as the inclination of it is
bat with the towards the sensitive desires, it is disgusted as soon as it
tastes of the Spirit, and herein the desires prove extnennely
troublesome to spiritual sweetness.

‘Two plans of * Catch us the foxes.’ The evil spirits now molest the soul in
spirite; two ways. They vehemently excite the desires, and then
employ them with other imaginations to assail the peaceful
and flourishing kingdom of the soul. In the second place,
and this is much worse, when they do not succeed in stirring
2. Toinfice Up the desires, they assail the soul with bodily pains and
spiritual noises in order to distract it. And, what is still more serious,
they fight with spiritual horror and dread, and sometimes
with fearful torments, which, at this time, if God permits
them, they can noweffectually bring about, for inasmuch as the
soul is now spiritually detached so as to perform its spiritual
exercises, the devil being himself a spirit presents himself
before it with great ease.

At other times the evil spirit assails the soul with other
horrors, before it begins to have the fruition of the sweet
flowers, when God is beginning to draw it forth out of the
house of sense that it may enter on the interior exercises in the
garden of the Bridegroom, for he knows well that once entered
into this state of recollection it is there so protected that, not-
withstanding all he can do, he cannot hurt it. Very often,
too, when the devil goes forth to meet the soul, the soul be-
comes quickly recollected in the secret depths of its interior,
where it finds great sweetness and protection; then those

* Gal. v. 17.

THE NOSEGAY OF ROSES. 93

terrors of Satan seem so distant that they not only produce
no fear, but are even the occasion of peace and joy. The
Bride, in the canticle, speaks of these terrors saying: ‘My
soul troubled me for the chariots of Aminadab.’* Amin-
adab is the evil spirit, and his chariots are his assaults upon
the soul, which he makes with great violence, noise, and
confusion.

The Bride also says what the soul says here, namely:

‘Catch us the little foxes that destroy the vines; for our
vineyard hath flourished.’t She does not say, Catch me, but,
Catch us, because she is speaking of herself and the Beloved ;
because they are one, and enjoy the flourishing of the vine-
yard together.
_ The reason why the vineyard is said to be flourishing and
not bearing fruit is this: the soul in this life has the frui-
tion of virtues, however perfect they may be, only in their
flower, because the fruit of them is reserved for the life to
come.

‘While of roses we make a nosegay.’ Now, at this time,
while the soul is rejoicing in the flourishing of the vineyard,
and delighting itself in the bosom of the Beloved, all its
virtues are perfect, exhibiting themselves to the soul, and
sending forth great sweetness and delight. The soul feels
them to be in itself and in God so as to seem to be a most
flourishing and pleasing vineyard belonging to both, wherein
they feed and delight. Then the soul unites all its virtues
in one, makes acts of love in each of them separately, and in
all together, and then offers them all to the Beloved, with
great tenderness of love and sweetness, and in this the
Beloved helps it, for without His help and favour, it cannot
make this union and oblation to the Beloved. Hence it says:
‘we make a nosegay,’ that is the Beloved and myself.

This union of the virtues is called a nosegay; for as a

* Cant. vi. 11. + Cant. ii. 15.

STANZA
XVI.

STANZA
Vin

94 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE. |

nosegay is cone-like in form, and a cone is strong, containing
and embracing many pieces firmly joined together, so this
cone-like nosegay of the virtues which the soul makes for the

Beloved, is the uniform perfection of the soul which firmly and

solidly contains and embraces many perfections, great virtues,
and rich endowments; for all the perfections and virtues of
the soul unite together to form but one. And while this
perfection is being accomplished, and when accomplished,
offered to the Beloved on the part of the soul, it becomes
necessary to catch the foxes that they may not impede this
mutual interior communication. The soul prays not only
that this nosegay may be carefully made, but also adds:
¢ And let no one appear on the hill.’

This Divine interior exercise requires solitude and detach-
ment from all things, whether in the lower part of the soul,
which is the sensitive nature of man, or in the higher, which
is the rational. These two divisions comprise all the faculties
and senses of man, and are here called the hill; because all
our natural notions and desires are in them, as quarry on a
hill, and also because the devil lays in wait among tliese
notions and desires, in order that he may injure the soul.

‘And let no one appear on the hill;’ that is, let no repre-
sentation or image of any object whatever, appertaining to
any of these faculties or senses, appear in the presence of the
soul and the Bridegroom: in other words, let the spiritual
faculties of the soul, memory, intellect, and will, be divested
of all notions, particular inclinations or considerations; and
let all the senses and faculties of the body, interior as well as
exterior, such as the imagination, the fancy, the sight and
hearing, and the rest, be divested of all occasions of distrac-
tions, of all forms, images, and representations, and of all
natural operations whatsoever.

The soul speaks in this way because it is necessary for the
perfect fruition of this communication of God, that all the
senses and faculties, both interior and exterior, should be

——— a ee

2s ee ie

a

SOLITUDE OF TIE HEART. 95

ES - disencumbered and emptied of their proper objects and
g operations ; for if they now be suffered to be active, so much ————
the greater will be the hindrance which they will occasion.

The soul, having attained to the interior union of love, the
spiritual faculties of it are no longer active, and still less
those of the body; for now that the union of love is actually
brought about, the faculties of the soul cease from their
exertions, because now that the goal is reached, all employ-
ment of means is at anend. What the soul at this time has

to do is to wait lovingly upon God, and this waiting is love

in a continuation of unitive love. Let no one, therefore,
appear on the hill, but the will only waiting in the offering
up of self and of the virtues in the way described.

INTRODUCTION.

For the clearer understanding of the following stanza, we
must keep in mind that the absence of the Beloved, from
which the soul suffers in the state of spiritual espousals, is an
exceedingly great affliction, and at times greater than all
other trials whatever. The reason is this: the love of the
soul for God is now so vehement and deep, that the pain of
His absence is vehement and deep.also. This pain is increased
also by the annoyance which arises from intercourse with
creatures, which is very great; for the soul, under the pres-
sure of its quickened desire of union with God, finds all
other conversation most painful and difficult to endure. It is
like a stone in its flight to the place whither it is rapidly tend-
ing; every obstacle it meets with occasions a violent shock.
And as the soul has tasted of the sweetness of the Beloved’s
visits, which are more desirable than gold and all that is
beautiful, it therefore dreads even a momentary absence, and
addresses itself as follows to aridities, and to the Spirit of the
Bridegroom :—

96 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

STANZA XVIL.

Cease, O thou killing north wind !

Come, O south wind, thou that awakenest love !
Blow through my garden,

And let its odours flow,

And my Beloved shall feed among the flowers,

SEAREA. What I have spoken of in the foregoing stanza is not all

-—— that can impede the interior sweetness of the soul.

eiriénal Spiritual dryness has the same effect; and the soul afraid

sridity is. Of this has recourse to two expedients in order to prevent
dryness of spirit. First, it shuts the door against it by con-
tinual prayer and devotion. Secondly, it invokes the Holy
Ghost, Who drivesaway aridity from the soul, Who supports it,
and increases its love of the Bridegroom, and Who also guides —
it into the interior practice of virtue, in order that the Son of
God, the Bridegroom, may rejoice and delight the more in the
soul, whose efforts are all directed to please the Beloved.

Sa Greens ‘ Cease, O thou killing north wind.’ The north wind is

viet exceedingly cold; it dries up and parches flowers and plants,

sem dead. and at the least, when it blows, causes them to draw in and
shut up. So, because dryness of spirit and the sensible
absence of the Beloved produce the same effect on the soul,
exhausting the sweetness and fragrance of virtue, it is here
called the killing north wind; for all the virtues and affective
devotions of the soul are as dead. Hence the soul addresses
itself to it saying: Cease, O Thou killing north wind. These
words mean that the soul applies itself to spiritual exercises,
in order to escape aridity. But as the communications of
God are now s0 interior that no exertion of the soul’s facul-
ties can possibly attain to them if the Spirit of the Bridegroom
do not cause these movements of love, the soul addresses
Him, saying: ‘Come, O south wind, thou that awakenest

NORTH AND SOUTH WINDS. 97

love.’ The south wind is another wind commonly called the
south-west wind. It is gentle, and brings rain; it makes the
grass and plants grow, flowers to blossom and scatter their per-
fume abroad ; and, in short, it is the very opposite in its effects
of the north wind. By it is meant here the Holy Ghost, Who
awakeneth love ; for when this Divine Breath breathes in the
soul, it so inflames and refreshes it, it so quickens the will,
and stirs up the desires, which were before low and asleep as
to the love of God, that it may be said of it that it quickens
the love between Him and the soul. The prayer of the soul
to the Holy Spirit is, ‘ Blow through my garden.’

This garden is the soul itself. For as the soul said of
itself before that it was a flourishing vineyard, because the
flowers of virtue which are in it give forth the wine of sweet-
ness, so here it says of itself that it is a garden, because the
flowers of perfection and the virtues are planted in it,
and there flourish, and grow.

Observe, too, that the expression is ‘blow through my
garden,’ not blowinit. There is a great difference between
God’s breathing into the soul, and through it. To breathe
into the soul is to infuse into it graces, gifts, and virtues ; to
breathe through it is, on the part of God, to touch and move
its virtues and perfections, renewing them and stirring them
in such a way that they send forth their marvellous fragrance
and sweetness. Thus aromatic spices, when shaken or
touched, give forth the odours which are not otherwise per-
ceived. The soul is not always in the conscious fruition of
its acquired and infused virtues, because, in this life, they are
like flowers in seed, or in bud, or like aromatic spices
covered over, the perfume of which is not perceived till they
are exposed and shaken.

But God sometimes is so merciful to the Bride-soul, as—
the Holy Ghost breathing meanwhile through the flourishing
garden—to open these buds of virtue and expose the aromatic

VOL. II. H

98 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

herbs of the soul’s gifts, perfections, and riches, to manifest
to it its interior treasures and to reveal to it all its beauty.
It is marvellous to behold, and sweet to feel, the abundance of
the gifts now revealed in the soul, and the beauty of the
flowers of virtue now flourishing in it. No language can
describe the fragrance which every one of them diffuses, each
according to its kind. This state of the soul is referred to in
the words, ‘let its odours flow.’

So profuse are these odours at times, that the soul seems
enveloped in delight and bathed in inestimable glory. Not
only is it conscious itself of them, but they even overflow it,
so that those who know how to discern these things can per-
ceive them. The soul in this state seems to them as a
delectable garden, full of the pleasures and riches of God.
This is observable in holy souls, not only when the flowers
open, but almost always; for they have a certain air of
grandeur and dignity which inspires the beholders with awe
and reverence, because of the supernatural effects of their
close and familiar converse with God. We have an illustra-
tion of this in the life of Moses, the sight of whose face the
people could not bear, by reason of the glory that rested upon
it—the effect of his speaking to God face to face. * 7

While the Holy Ghost is breathing through the garden—
this is His visitation of the soul—the Bridegroom Son of God
communicates Himself to it in a profound way, enamoured
of it. It is for this that He sends the Holy Spirit before
Him—as He sent the Apostlest—to make ready the chamber
of the soul His bride, comforting it with delight, setting its
garden in order, opening its flowers, revealing its gifts, and
adorning it with the tapestry of graces. The Bride-soul
longs for this with all its might, and therefore charges the
north wind not to blow, and invokes the south wind to blow

* Exod, xxxiv. 30, + S. Luke xxii. 8,

ag Pe ee Ra

ae
+n"
=

BREATH OF THE SWEET-SMELLING FLOWERS. 99

through the garden, because it gains many things here at

once. The Bride now gains the fruition of all her virtues in

their sweetest exercise. She gains the fruition of her Beloved
in them, because it is through the instrumentality of her
virtues that He converses with her in most intimate love,
and grants her favours greater than any of the past. She
gains, too, that her Beloved delights more in her because of
the actual exercise of virtue, which is what pleases her most,
namely, that her Beloved should be pleased with her. She
gains also the permanent continuance of the sweet fragrance
which remains in the soul while the Bridegroom is present,
and the Bride entertains Him with the sweetness of virtue,
as it is written: ‘While the King was at His repose,’ that is,
in the soul, ‘my spikenard sent forth the odour thereof.’ *
The spikenard is the soul, which from the flowers of its
virtues sends forth sweet odours to the Beloved, Who dwells
within it in the union of love. It is therefore very much to
be desired that every soul should pray the Holy Ghost to
blow through its garden, that the Divine odours of God may
flow. And as this is so necessary, so glorious and profitable
to the soul, the Bride desires it, and prays for it, saying:
‘ Arise, O north wind, and come, O south wind ; blow through
my garden, and let the aromatical spices thereof flow.’ t
The soul prays for this, not because of the delight and glory
consequent upon it, but because of the delight it ministers to
the Beloved, and because it prepares the way and announces
the presence of the Son of God, Who cometh to rejoice in it.
Hence the soul adds :-—

*And my Beloved shall feed among the flowers.’ The
delight which the Son of God finds now in the soul is
described as pasture. This word expresses most forcibly the
truth, because pasture not only réjoiceth, but also sustaineth.

* Cant. i. 11. Cant. iv. 16,
u2

Why it
desires

100 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

Thus the Son of God delights Himself in the soul, in the

————— delights thereof, and is nourished by it, that is, He abides

within it as in a place which pleases Him exceedingly,
because the place itself really delights in Him. This, I~
believe, is the meaning of those words recorded in the
Proverbs of Solomon: ‘My delights were to be with the
children of men;’* that is, when they delight to be with
Me, Who am the Son of God. Observe, also, that it is not
said that the Beloved shall feed on the flowers, but that He
shall feed among the flowers. For, as the communications of
the Beloved are in the soul itself, through the adornment of
the virtues, it follows that what He feeds on is the soul which
He transformed into Himself, now that it is prepared and
adorned with these flowers of virtues, graces, and perfections,
which are the things whereby, and among which, He feeds.
These, too, by the power of the Holy Ghost, send forth in
the soul the odours of sweetness to the Son of God, that He
may feed there the more in the love thereof; for this is the
love of the Bridegroom, to be united to the soul amid the
fragrance of its flowers.

The Bride in the Canticle has observed this, for she had
experience of it: ‘ My Beloved is gone down into His garden,
to the bed of aromatical spices, to feed in the gardens, and to
gather lilies. I to my Beloved, and my Beloved to me, Who
feedeth among the lilies, that is, Who feedeth and delight-
eth in my soul, which is His garden, among the lilies of my
virtues, perfections, and graces.

=

INTRODUCTION.

In the state of spiritual espousals, the soul contemplating
its own riches and grandeur but unable to enter into the

* Prov. viii. 31.

» air
THE ROYAL CAPTIVE IN PRISON. 101

possession and fruition of them as it desires, because it is
still in the flesh, suffers exceedingly, and then more particu-
larly when its knowledge of them becomes more profound.
It then sees itself in the body, like a prince thrown into prison,
subject to all misery, whose authority is disregarded, whose
territories and wealth are confiscated, and who, of his former
‘substance receives but a miserable dole; whose household is
no longer obedient, and whose slaves and servants, forgetting
all respect, plunder him of the scanty provisions of his table.
Thus is it with the soul in the body, for when God mercifully
admits it to a foretaste of the good things which He has pre-
pared for it, the wicked servants of desire in the sensitive part,
now the slave of disorderly motions, now of other rebellious
movements, rise up against it in order to rob it of its good.

The soul feels itself as if it were in the land of enemies,
tyrannised over by the stranger, like the dead among the
dead. Its feelings are those which the prophet Baruch
gave vent to when he described the misery of Jacob’s capti-
vity: ‘How happeneth it, O Israel, that thou art in thy
enemies’ land? Thou art grown old in astrange country, thou
art defiled with the dead: thou art counted with them that
go down into hell.’* This misery of the soul, in the captivity
of the body is thus spoken of by Jeremias, saying: ‘ Is Israel
a bondman or a home-born slave? Why then is he become
a prey? The lions have roared upon him, and have made a
noise.’ ¢ The lions are the desires and the rebellious motions
of the tyrant king of sensuality. In order to express the
trouble which this tyrant occasions, and the desire of the soul
to see this kingdom of sensuality with all its hosts destroyed,
or wholly subject to the spirit, the soul lifting up its eyes to
the Bridegroom, as to one who can effect it, speaks against
those rebellious motions in the words of the next stanza.

* Baruch iii. 10, 11. + Jerem, ii. 14, 15.

STANZA
xVUL

STANZA
XVIII.

Old foes
though de-
feated renew
their attack,

102 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE. —

STANZA XVIII.

O nymphs of Judea!

While amid the flowers and the rose-trees
The amber sends forth its perfume,
Tarry in the suburbs,

And touch not my threshold.

It is the Bride that speaks, who seeing herself, as to the
higher part of the soul, adorned with the rich endowments
of her Beloved, and seeing Him delighting in her, desires to
preserve herself in security, and in the continued fruition of
the blessings which He has given her. Seeing also that
hindrances will arise, as, in fact, they do, from the sensitive
part of the soul, which will disturb so great a good, she com-
mands the operations and motions of the soul’s lower nature
to cease, in the senses and faculties of it, and sensuality not to
overstep its boundaries to trouble and disquiet the higher and
spiritual portion of the soul: not to hinder even for a moment
the sweetness she enjoys. The motions of our lower nature,
and their energies, if they show themselves during the enjoy-
ment of the spirit, are so much more troublesome, the more
active they are.

‘O nymphs of Judea.’ The lower, that is the sensitive part
of the soul, is called Judea. It is called Judea because it is
weak, and carnal, and blind, like the Jewish people. All the
imaginations, fancies, motions, and inclinations of the lower
part of the soul are called nymphs; for as nymphs with their
beauty and attractions enticed men to love them, so the
operations and motions of sensuality softly and earnestly
strive to entice the natural will, to withdraw it from that
which is interior, and to fix it on what is exterior, to which
they are disposed themselves. They also strive to influence
the intellect to join with them in their low views, and to
bring down reason to the level of sense by the attractions

es

LOITERERS AT THE GATE OF THE CITY. 103

of the latter. The soul, therefore, says in effect: O sensual

_ operations and motions.

* While amid the flowers and the rose-trees.’ The flowers,
as I have said, are the virtues of the soul, and the rose-trees
are its faculties, memory, intellect, and will, which produce
and nurture the flowers of Divine conceptions, acts of love
and the virtues, while the amber sends forth its perfume in
the virtues and the faculties of the soul.

*The amber sends forth its perfume.’ The amber is the
Divine Spirit of the Bridegroom Who dwells in the soul.
To send forth the perfume among the flowers and the rose-
trees, is to diffuse and communicate Himself most sweetly in
the powers and virtues of the soul, scattering abroad the per-
fume of the Divine sweetness. While the Divine Spirit sends
forth the spiritual sweetness in the soul, the soul cries out :—

‘ Tarry in the suburbs’ of Judea, which is the inferior part
or sensitive nature of the soul. The suburbs are the interior
senses, namely, memory, fancy, and imagination, where forms
and images of things collect, by the help of which the sensitive
nature of man stirs up concupiscence and desires. These forms
are the nymphs, and while they are quiet and tranquil the
desires are also asleep. They enter into the suburbs of the
interior senses by the gates of the exterior senses, of sight,
hearing, smell, &. We give the name of suburbs to all
the powers and interior or exterior senses of the sensitive part
of the soul, because they are outside the walls of the city.
That part of the soul which may be called the city is that
which is most interior, the rational part, which is capable of
converse with God, the operations of which are superior
to those of sense. But there is a natural intercourse be-
tween those who dwell in the suburbs of the sensitive part
—that is the nymphs—and those who dwell in the higher
part, which is the city itself; and therefore, what takes place
in the lower part is ordinarily felt in the higher, and conse-

104 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

STANZA quently disturbs the spiritual operation which is conversant
— with God. Hence the soul bids the nymphs tarry in the
suburbs, that is, to remain at rest in the exterior and interior
senses of the sensitive part. .

Involuntary ‘And touch not my threshold.’ Let not your first move- —
assault the ments touch the higher part, for the first movements of the
soul are the threshold of it. When the first movements
have passed into the reason, they have crossed the threshold,
but when they remain as first movements only they are then
said merely to touch the threshold, or to ery at the gate, which
is the case when reason and sense contend over an unreason-
1p able act. The soul here not only bids these not to touch it, but
— also charges all considerations whatever which do not minister

to its repose and the good it enjoys to keep far away.

INTRODUCTION.

THE soul is now so hostile to the lower part, and to the
operations thereof, that it would have God communicate
nothing to it when He communicates with the higher. If
He will communicate with the lower, it must be in a slight
degree, or the soul will be unable to endure it without faint-
ing away, because of its natural weakness, and consequently
the spirit cannot rejoice in peace, because it is then
troubled. ‘ For,’ as the wise man says, ‘ the corruptible body
is a load upon the soul.’* And as the soul longs for the
highest and noblest converse with God, which is impossible
in the presence of the sensitive part, it begs of God to deal
with it without the intervention of the senses, That sublime
vision of 8. Paul in the third heaven, wherein, he says, he
saw God, but yet knew not whether he was in the body or
out of the body, must have been, be it what it may, inde-

* Wisd. ix. 15.

SUNLIGHT ON THE MOUNTAINS. 105

a pendent of the body; for if the body had any share in it, he
must then have known it, and the vision could not have been
what it was, seeing that he ‘heard secret words which it is
not granted to man to utter.’* The soul also, knowing well
that graces so great cannot be received in a vessel so mean,
and longing to receive them out of the body, or at least with-
out it, addresses the Bridegroom in the words that follow :—

STANZA XIX.

Hide Thyself, O my Beloved!

Let Thy face shine on the mountains.
Do not tell it,

But regard the companions

Of her who traverses strange islands.

Here the Bride presents four petitions to the Bridegroom :
—1l. She prays that He would be pleased to converse with her
most interiorly in the secret chamber of the soul. 2. That
He would invest and inform her faculties with the glory and
grandeur of His Divinity. 3. That He would converse with her
80 profoundly as to surpass all knowledge and expression, and
in such a way that her lower and sensitive nature may not
perceive it. 4. That He would love the many virtues and
graces with which He has crowned her,adorned with which she
is ascending upwards to God in the deepest knowledge of the
Divinity, and in transports of love most strange and singular,
surpassing those of ordinary experience.

‘Hide Thyself, 0 my Beloved!’ O my Spouse, most 1.1

beloved, hide Thyself in the secret of my soul, communi-
cating Thyself to it in secret, and manifesting Thy hidden
wonders which no mortal eyes may see.

‘Let Thy face shine on the mountains.’ The face of
God is His Divinity. The mountains are the powers of
the soul, memory, intellect, and will. Thus the meaning of

* 2 Cor. xii. 2-4.

106 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

these words is: Enlighten my intellect with Thy Divinity, and
give it the Divine intelligence, fill my will with Divine love,
and my memory with the Divine possession of glory. The
Bride here prays for all that may be prayed for; for she is
not content with that knowledge of God once granted to
Moses *—the knowledge of Him by His works—for she prays
to see the face of God, which is the essential communication
of His Divinity to the soul, without any intervening medium,
by a certain knowledge thereof in the Divinity. This is
something beyond sense, and divested of accidents, inas-
much as it is the contact of pure substances, that is, of the
soul and the Divinity.

‘Do not tell it,’ as before, when Thy converse with me was
known to the outward senses, for it was once such as to
be comprehended by them; it was not so profound but
they could fathom it. Now let Thy converse with me be
so deep and so substantial, and so interior, as to be beyond
the capacity of the senses; for the substance of spiritual
truth is incommunicable to sense, and the communication
made through the senses, especially in this life, cannot be
purely spiritual, because the senses are not capable of such.
The soul therefore, longing for that substantial and essential
communication of God, of which sense cannot be cognizant,
prays the Bridegroom not to tell it: that is, that the depth
of the secret of the spiritual union may be such as to escape
the notice of the senses, like the secret which 8. Paul heard,
and which is not granted to man to utter. f

‘ But regard the companions.’ The regard of God is love
and grace. The companions here are the many virtues of
the soul, its gifts, perfections, and other spiritual graces with
which He has crowned it, as with the ornaments of espousals.
Thus the meaning of the words seems to be this: Turn Thou
Thy face to the interior of my soul, O my Beloved, enamoured

* Exod, xxxiii. 23. + 2 Cor. xii. 4,

INTERIOR CONVERSE WITH GOD. 107

of the treasures which Thou hast laid up there, so that,

-enamoured of them, Thou mayest hide Thyself among them
and there dwell ; for though in truth they are all Thine, yet
they are mine also, because Thou hast given them.

* Of her who traverses strange islands.’ That is, of my soul
tending towards Thee through strange knowledge of Thee,
by strange ways—strange to sense and to the ordinary percep-
tions of nature. It is as if the Bride said, by way of con-
straining Him to yield: Seeing that my soul is tending
towards Thee through knowledge which is spiritual, strange,
unknown to sense, do Thou therefore communicate Thyself
to it so interiorly and so profoundly that the senses may not
observe it.

INTRODUCTION.

In order to the attainment of a state of perfection so high as
this of the spiritual marriage, the soul that aims at it must
not only be purified and cleansed from all the imperfections,
rebellions, and imperfect habits of its inferior nature, which is
now—the old man being put away—subject and obedient
to the higher, but it must also have great courage and most
exalted love for so vigorous and close an embrace of God. For
in this state the soul not only attains to exceeding pureness
and beauty, but also acquires a terrible strength by reason of
that strict and close bond which in this union binds it to God.
The soul, therefore, in order to come near unto God, must
have attained to the height of purity, strength, and adequate
love. The Holy Ghost, Who is the author of this spiritual
union, anxious that the soul should attain thus far in
order to merit it, addresses Himself to the Father and the
Son, saying : ‘ Our sister is little, and hath no breasts. What
shall we do to our sister in the day when she is to be spoken
to? If she be a wall, let us build upon it bulwarks of silver ;

108 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

if she be a door, let us join it together with boards of
cedar.’ *

The ‘ bulwarks of silver’ are heroic virtues comprised in
faith, which is signified by silver, and these heroic virtues
are those of the spiritual matrimony, which are built upon
the soul, signified by the wall, relying on the strength of
which, the peaceful Bridegroom reposes undisturbed by any
infirmities. The ‘boards of cedar’ are the affections and
characteristics of this deep love which is signified by the
cedar-tree, and this is the love of the spiritual matrimony.
In order ‘to join it together,’ that is, to adorn the Bride, it
is necessary she should be as the door for the Bridegroom to
enter through, keeping the door of the will open in a perfect
and true consent of love, which is the consent of the be-
trothal given previous to the spiritual marriage. The breasts
of the bride are also this perfect love which she must have
in order to appear without defect in the presence of Christ
her Bridegroom,

It is written in the Canticle that the Bride immediately
replied, saying: ‘I am a wall: and my breasts are as a tower.’
That is, my soul is strong and my love most deep; that He
may not fail her on that ground. The Bride, too, had ex-
pressed as much in the preceding stanzas, out of the fulness
of her longing for the perfect union and transformation, and’
particularly in the last, wherein she set before the Bride-
groom all the virtues, graces, and good dispositions with
which she was adorned by Him, and that with the object of
making Him the prisoner of her love.

Now the Bridegroom, to bring this matter to a close, replies
in the two stanzas that follow, which describe Him as per-
fectly purifying the soul, strengthening and disposing it,
both as to its sensitive and spiritual nature, for this estate.

* Cant. viii. 8.

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- THE BRIDEGROOM GUARDS HIS BRIDE. 109

He charges all resistance and rebellion, both of the flesh and STANZAS
of the devil, not to approach the soul, saying : —

STANZAS XX., XXI.

THE BRIDEGROOM.

Light-winged birds,

Lions, fawns, bounding deer,

Mountains, valleys, strands,

Waters, winds, fires,

And the terrors that keep watch by night ;

By the soft lyres
And siren strains, I adjure you,

Let your fury cease,
And touch not the wall,
That the Bride may sleep in peace.

Here the Son of God, the Bridegroom, leads the Bride into Christ
the enjoyment of peace and tranquillity in the conformity of coal to
her lower to her higher nature, purging away all her imper-
fections, subjecting the natural powers of the soul to reason,
and mortifying all her desires, as it is expressed in these two
stanzas, the meaning of which is as follows. In the first
place the Bridegroom adjures and commands all vain dis-
tractions of the fancy and imagination from henceforth to
cease, and controls the irascible and concupiscible, faculties
which were hitherto the sources of so much affliction. He
brings, so far as it is possible in this life, the three powers of
memory, intellect, and will, to the perfection of their several
objects. And then he adjures and commands the four
passions of the soul, joy, hope, grief, and fear, to be still,
and bids them from henceforth be moderate and calm.

All these passions and faculties are comprehended under
the expressions employed in the first stanza, the acts of
which, full of trouble, the Bridegroom subdues by that great
sweetness and courage which the Bride enjoys in the spi-
ritual surrender of Himself to her which God makes at this

restores the

n,

2. From
anger, desire,
timidity, and
rashness,

110 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

time; under the influence of which, because God transforms
the soul effectually in Himself, all the faculties, desires and
movements of the soul lose their natural imperfection and
become Divine.

* Light-winged birds.’ These are the distractions of the
imagination, light and rapid in their flight, from one subject
to another. When the will is tranquilly enjoying the sweet
converse of the Beloved, these desultory distractions produce
weariness, and quench the soul’s spiritual delight. The
Bridegroom adjures them by the soft lyres. That is, seeing
that the sweetness of the soul is so abundant and so con-
tinuous that they cannot interfere with it, as they did before
when it was not so great, He adjures them, and bids them
cease from their disquieting violence. The same explana-
tion is to be given of the rest of the stanza.

‘ Lions, fawns, bounding deer.’ By the lions I mean the
raging violence of the irascible faculty, which in its acts is
bold and daring as a lion. The ‘fawns and bounding deer’
are the concupiscible faculty, that is, the power of desire, the
qualities of which are two—timidity and rashness. Timidity
betrays itself when things do not turn out according to our
wishes, for then the mind retires within itself discouraged,
and in this respect the soul resembles the fawns. For as
fawns have the concupiscible faculty stronger than other
animals, so are they more retiring and more timid. Rashness
betrays itself when we have our own way, for the mind is
then neither retiring nor timid, but desires boldly, and
gratifies all its inclinations. This quality of rashness is com-
pared to the deer, who so eagerly seek what they desire that
they not only run but even leap after it; hence they are
described as bounding deer.

Thus the Bridegroom, in adjuring the lions, restrains the
violence and controls the fury of rage ; in adjuring the fawns,
He strengthens the concupiscible faculty against timidity and

ae ae

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_ VIRTUE, THE MEAN: VICE, EXCESS OR DEFECT. 111

_ irresolution; and in adjuring the deer, He satisfies and subdues
_ the desires which were restless before, leaping, like deer, from

one object to another, to satisfy that concupiscence which is
now satisfied by the soft lyres, the sweetness of which it enjoys,

' and by the siren strains, in the delight of which it revels.

But the Bridegroom does not adjure anger and concupis-
cence themselves—because these passions never cease from the
soul—but their vexatious and disorderly acts, signified by the
‘lions, fawns, and bounding deer,’ for it is necessary that
these disorderly acts should cease in this state.

‘Mountains, valleys, strands.’ These are the vicious and
disorderly actions of the three faculties of the soul—memory,
intellect, and will. These actions are disorderly and vicious
when they are in extremes, or, if not in extreme, tending to
one extreme or other. Thus the mountains signify those
actions which are vicious in excess, mountains being high;
the valleys, being low, signify those which are vicious in the
extreme of defect. Strands, which are neither high nor low,
but, inasmuch as they are not perfectly level, tend to one
extreme or other, signify those acts of the three powers of
the soul which depart slightly in either direction from the
true mean and equality of justice. These actions, though not
disorderly in the extreme, as they would be if they amounted
to mortal sin, are nevertheless disorderly in part, tending to-
wards venal sin or imperfection, however slight that tendency
may be, in the intellect, memory, and will. He adjures also
all these actions which depart from the true mean, and bids
them cease before the soft lyres and the siren strains, which
so effectually charm the powers of the soul as to occupy them
completely in their true and proper functions, so that they
shall not only avoid all extremes, but also the slightest ten-
dency to them.

* Waters, winds, fires, and the terrors that keep watch
by night. These are the affections of the four passions,

112 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE,

grief, hope, joy, and fear. The waters are the affections
of grief which afflict the soul, for they rush into it like
water. ‘Save me, O God,’ saith the Psalmist, ‘for the
. waters are come in even unto my soul.’* The winds are the |
affections of hope, for they rush forth like wind, desiring that
which is not present but hoped for, as the Psalmist saith:
‘I opened my mouth and panted: because I longed for Thy
commandments.’ That is, I opened the mouth of my hope,
and drew in the wind of desire, because I hoped and longed
for Thy commandments. The fires are the affections of joy
which, like fire, inflame the heart, as it is written: ‘ My heart
grew hot within me; and in my meditation a fire shall flame
out;’t that is, while I meditate I shall have joy. The
‘terrors that keep watch by night’ are the affections of fear,
which, in spiritual persons who have not attained to the state
of spiritual matrimony are usually exceedingly strong. These
come from God at those times when He is about to bestow
some great favours upon men whose nature is not perfect and
strong, and habituated to such favours. Then indeed fear
and dread fall upon them, and flesh and sense are shaken.
They come also from the evil spirit, who, when he sees a soul
sweetly recollected in God, out of envy and malignity, labours
to disturb its tranquillity by exciting horror and dread, in order
to destroy so great a blessing; sometimes even he utters his
threats, as it were, in the interior of the soul. But when he
finds that he cannot penetrate within the soul, because it is
so recollected, and so united with God, he strives at least in
the province of sense, to produce exterior distractions and
inconstancy, sensible pains and horrors, if perchance he may
in this way disturb the soul in the bridal chamber.

These are called terrors of the night, because they are the
work of evil spirits, and because Satan labours, by the help

* Ps. lxviii. 1. + Ps. exviii. 131. t Ps. xxxviii. 4,

ss GOD:«~ WIPES AWAY TEARS, AND FILLS HOPE. 113

thereof, to involve the soul in darkness, and to obscure the
_ Divine light wherein it rejoiceth. They are said to keep their
watch by night, because they waken the soul and rouse it

from its sweet interior slumber, and also because Satan, their

author, is ever on the watch to produce them. These terrors
strike the soul of persons who are already spiritual, passively,
and come either from God or the evil spirit. I do not refer to
temporal or natural terrors, because spiritual men are not
subject to these, as they are to those of which I am speaking.

The Beloved adjures the affections of these four passions,
compels them to cease and to be at rest, because He supplies
the Bride now with force, and courage, and satisfaction, by
the soft lyres of His sweetness and the siren strains of His
delight, so that not only they shall not domineer over the
soul, but not occasion it any distaste. Such is the grandeur
and stability of the soul, that, although formerly the waters of
grief overwhelmed it, because of its own or other men’s sins—
which is what spiritual persons most feel—the consideration
of them now excites neither pain nor annoyance; even the sen-
sible feeling of compassion exists not now, though the effects of
it continue in perfection. The weaknesses of virtues are no
longer in the soul, for they are now constant, energetic, and per-
fect. As the Angels perfectly appreciate all sorrowful things
without the sense of pain, and perform acts of compassion with-
out the sentiment of pity, so the soul in this transformation
of love. God, however, dispenses sometimes, on certain occa-
sions, with the soul in this matter, allowing it to feel and
suffer; but this is that it may become more fervent in love,
and grow in merit, or for some other reasons, as He dispensed
with His Virgin Mother, S. Paul, and others. This, however,
is not the ordinary condition of this state. .

Neither do the desires of hope afflict the soul now, because,
satisfied in its union with God, so far as it is possible in this
life, it has nothing worldly to hope for, and nothing spiritual

VOL. I. I

“Analogy of
the Angels,

114 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE, |

to desire, seeing that it feels itself to be full of the riches of
God—though it may grow in charity—and thus, whether living

- or dying, it is conformed to the will of God, saying, with the

sense and spirit, ‘ Thy will be done,’ free from the violence of
inclination and desires; and therefore even its longing for
the Beatific Vision is without pain.

The affections of joy, also, which are wont to moye the soul
with more or less vehemence, are not sensibly diminished ;
neither does their abundance occasion anything new. The
joy of the soul is now so abundant, that it is like the sea, which
is not diminished by the rivers that flow out of it, nor increased
by those that empty themselves into it; for the soul now con-
tains that fountain of which our Lord said, that it is ‘ spring-
ing up into life everlasting.’ *

I have said that the soul receives nothing new in this state
of transformation; it seems to lose all accidental joy, which is
not withheld even from the glorified. That is, accidental
joys and sweetness are indeed no strangers to this soul; yea,
rather, those which it ordinarily has cannot be numbered ; yet,
for all this, as to the substantial communication of the Spirit,
there is no increase of joy, for that which may occur anew the
soul possesses already, and thus what the soul has within itself
is greater than anything that comes anew. Hence, then,
whenever any subject of joy or rejoicing, whether exterior
or spiritually interior, presents itself to the soul, the soul
betakes itself forthwith to rejoicing in the riches it possesses
already within itself, and its joy in them is far greater than
any which these new accessions minister, because, in a certain
sense, God is become its possession, Who, though He delights
in all things, yet in nothing so much as in Himself, seeing
that He has all good eminently in Himself. Thus all accessions
of joy remind the soul that its real rejoicing is in its interior

* S. John iv, 14.

eg Ea

GOD A JOY FOR EVER. 115

possessions, rather than in these accidental causes, because, as

I have said, the former are greater than the latter.
It is very natural for the soul, even when a particular

_ matter gives it pleasure, that, possessing another of greater

worth and gladness, it should turn to it at once and prefer
it to the former. The accidental character of these spiritual
accessions, and the new impressions they make on the soul,
may be said to be as nothing in comparison with that substan-
tial source which it has within itself; for the soul which has
attained to the perfect transformation, fullgrown, grows no
more by means of these spiritual accessions, as those souls do
who have not yet advanced so far. It is a marvellous thing that
the soul, while it receives no accessions of delight, should still
seem to do so and also to retain them. The reason is that

it is always tasting them anew, because its blessings are ever

renewed; and thus it seems to be continually the recipient
of new accessions, while it has no need of them whatever.

But if we speak of that light of glory which in this, the
soul’s embrace, God sometimes produces within it, and which
is a certain spiritual communion wherein He causes it to
behold and enjoy at the same time the abyss of delight and
riches which He has laid up within it, there is no language
to express any degree of it. As the sun when it shines upon
the sea illuminates its great depths, and discovers the pearls,
and gold, and precious stones therein, so the Divine Sun,
the Bridegroom, turning towards the Bride, discovers in a
way the riches of her soul, so that even the Angels behold
her with amazement, and say: ‘Who is she that cometh
forth as the morning rising, fair as the moon, bright as the
sun, terrible as an army set in array." This illumination
adds nothing to the grandeur of the soul, notwithstanding its
greatness, but only reveals what was already there.

* Cant. vi. 9.
12

‘up

STANZAS

XX., XXI.
4. Fear cast
out by per-
fect love.

Peace of God
surpasses
knowledge
and lan-
guage.

116 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

Finally, the terrors that keep watch by night do not come
nigh unto her, because of her pureness, courage, and confi-
dent trust in God; the evil spirits cannot shroud her in
darkness, nor alarm her with terrors, nor waken her with
their violent assaults. Thus nothing can approach her,
nothing can molest her, for she has escaped from all created —
things and entered in to God, to the fruition of perfect peace,
sweetness, and delight, so far as that is possible in this
life. It is to this state that the words of Solomon are appli-
cable: ‘A secure mind is like a continual feast.’* As in a
feast we have the savour of all meat, and the sweet-
ness of all music, so in this feast, which the Bride keeps in
the bosom of her Beloved, the soul rejoices in all delight, and
has the taste of all sweetness. All that I have said, and all
that may be said, on this subject, will always fall short of that
which passeth in the soul which has attained to this blessed
state. For when it shall have attained to the peace of God,
‘ which,’ in the words of the Apostle, ‘ surpasseth all under-
standing,’f no sense or language can express its state.

‘ By the soft lyres and the siren strains I adjure you.’ The
soft lyres are the sweetness which the Bridegroom communi-
cates to the soul in this state, and by which He makes all its
troubles to cease. As the music of lyres fills the mind with

. sweetness and delight, carries it rapturously out of itself, so

that it forgets all its weariness and grief, in like manner this
sweetness so absorbs the soul that nothing painful can reach
it. The Bridegroom says, in substance: By that sweetness
which I give thee, let all thy bitterness cease. The siren
strains are the ordinary joys of the soul, which it always
possesses. These are called siren strains because, as it is
said, the music of the sirens is so sweet, that he who hears it
is rapt and carried out of himself, forgetting all around him.

* Proy. xy. 15. + Philipp iv. 7.

eos.
ee

THE REIGN OF EVERLASTING PEACE. 117

In the same way the delight of this union so.absorbs the soul
and refreshes it, that it becomes, as it were, charmed against
all the vexations and troubles that may assail it; it is to
these the next words of the stanza refer :

‘Let your fury cease.’ This is the troubles and anxieties
which flow from unruly acts and affections. As anger is a
certain violence which disturbs tranquillity, overleaping its
bounds, so also all the affections and emotions that transgress
the bounds of peace, and the tranquillity of the soul disturb
it whenever they touch it. Hence the Bridegroom says:
‘And touch not the wall.’ The wall is the territory of peace and
the fortress of virtue and perfections, which are the defences
and protection of the soul. The soul is the garden wherein
the Beloved feeds among the flowers, defended and guarded
for Him alone. Hence it is called in the Canticle ‘a garden
inclosed.’* The Bridegroom bids all disorderly emotions not
to touch the territory and wall of His garden.

‘That the Bride may sleep in peace.’ That she may enjoy
the full fruition of the peace and sweetness of her Beloved.
It seems, then, that there is no perfect tranquillity for the
soul unless it is able to enjoy, when and how it will, this
sweet sleep of love, as the Bridegroom says Himself: ‘I
adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes and the
harts of the fields, that you stir not up nor awake my
beloved till she please.’t

INTRODUCTION.

Sucu was the desire of the Bridegroom to rescue His Bride
from the power of the flesh and the devil, that, having done
so, He now rejoices over her like the Good Shepherd, who
having found the sheep that was lost, laid it upon his

* Cant. iv. 12. + Cant. iii. 5.

STANZA

A perfect
soul the
crown, joy
and bride of
Christ.

118 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

shoulders rejoicing; like the woman who, having found the
money she had lost, after lighting a candle and sweeping the
house, called ‘together her friends and neighbours, saying:
Rejoice with me.’* The loving Shepherd and Spouse of souls
feels a marvellous joy and satisfaction when He beholds a soul
gained to perfection lying on His shoulders, and clinging to
Him in the longed-for embraces of Divine union. He is not
alone in His joy, for He makes the Angels and the souls of the
blessed partakers of His glory, saying: * Go forth, ye daughters
of Sion, and see King Solomon in the diadem wherewith his
mother crowned him in the day of his espousals, and in the
day of the joy of his heart.’t He calls the soul His crown,
His bride, and the joy of His heart ; He carries it in His arms,
and leads it into His bridal chamber, as we shall see in the
following stanza :—

STANZA XXII.

The Bride has entered

The pleasant and desirable garden,

And there reposes to her heart's content ;
Her neck reclining

On the sweet arms of her Beloved,

The Bride having prayed that the foxes may be caught, that
the north wind may cease, that the nymphs, obstacles to the
desired union of the spiritual, marriage, may forego their
troublesome importunities, and having also invoked and
obtained the favourable wind of the Holy Ghost, which is the
right disposition and means for the perfection of this estate,
it remains for me now to speak of the state of spiritual mar-
riage. It is the Bridegroom Himself Who speaks in the
stanza before us, in which He calls the soul His bride, and
speaks of two things :—1. He says that the soul has gone forth
victoriously, and has entered the delectable state of spiritual
marriage, which they had both so earnestly desired. 2. He

* S. Luke xy. 5, 8, 9. + Cant. iii, 11.

FROM PENANCE TO PERFECTION. 119

enumerates the properties of that state, into the fruition of
which the soul has entered, namely, perfect repose, and the
resting of the neck on the arms of the Beloved.

‘The Bride has entered.’ For the better understanding of
the arrangement of these stanzas, and of the way in which
the soul advances till it reaches the state of spiritual marriage,
which is the very highest, and of which, by the grace of God,
I am now about to treat, we must keep in mind that the soul,
before it enters it, must have been tried in tribulations, in
sharp mortifications, and in meditation on spiritual things.
This is the subject of the Canticle till we come to the fifth
stanza, beginning with the words: ‘A thousand graces dif-
fusing.’ Then the soul enters on the contemplative life, pass-
ing through those ways and straits of love which are described
in the course of the Canticle, till we come to the thirteenth,
beginning with ‘ Turn them away, O my Beloved!’ This is
the moment of the spiritual betrothal; and then the soul
advances by the unitive way, receiving many and very great
communications from the Bridegroom, visions of Him, jewels
and gifts. The soul is now like a virgin betrothed, and
beholds itself growing into perfect love, as it appears from the
stanzas which follow that beginning with ‘Turn them away, O
my Beloved!’ the moment of espousals, to the present one,
beginning with the words:

‘The Bride has entered.’ The spiritual marriage of the
soul and the Son of God now remains to be accomplished.
This is, beyond al] comparison, a far higher state than that
of espousals, because it is a complete transformation into the
Beloved; and becanse each of them surrenders to the other
the entire possession of themselves in the perfect union of
love, wherein the soul becomes Divine, and, by participation,
God, so far as it is possible in this life. I believe that no soul
ever attains to this state without being confirmed in grace in
it, for the faith of both is confirmed; that of God being

120 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

stanza confirmed in the soul. Hence it follows, that this is the very

highest state possible in this life. As by natural marriage

‘Diriage there are ‘ two in one flesh,’* so also in the spiritual marriage

grace. between God and the soul there are two natures in one spirit —
and love, as we learn from S. Paul, who made use of the same
metaphor, saying: ‘He who is joined to the Lord is one
spirit.’t So, when the light of a star, or of a burning candle,
is united to that of the sun, the light is not that of the star,
nor of the candle, but of the sun itself, which absorbs all other
light in its own.

It is of this state that the Bridegroom is now speaking, say-
ing: ‘ The Bride has entered ;’ that is, out of all temporal and

coe, natural things, out of all spiritual affections, ways, and methods,

ofthelorl. having left on one side, and forgotten, all temptations, trials,
sorrows, anxieties, and cares, and being transformed in this
deep embrace of God.

‘The pleasant and desirable garden.’ That is, the soul is
transformed in God, Who is here called the pleasant garden
because of the delicious and sweet repose which the soul finds
in Him. But the soul does not enter the garden of perfect
transformation, the glory and the joy of the spiritual nuptials,
without passing first through the spiritual espousals, the
mutual faithful love of the betrothed. When the soul has
lived for some time as the affianced bride of the Son, in per-

' fect and sweet love, God calls it and leads it into His

flourishing garden for the celebration of the spiritual marriage.

Two natures, Then the two natures are so united, what is Divine is so com-

eential” _ municated to what is human, that, without undergoing any

‘woo essential change, each seems to be God—yet not perfectly so

in this life, though still in a manner which can neither be
described nor conceived.

We learn this truth also from the words of the Bridegroom
in the Canticle, where He invites the soul, now His bride, to

* Genes, ii. 24. + 1 Cor. vi. 17.-

TIE SPIRITUAL MARRIAGE. 121

enter this high estate, saying: ‘I am come into my garden, O
my sister, my spouse: I have gathered my myrrh with my aro-
matical spices.’* He calls the soul His sister, His spouse, for
it is such in love by that surrender which it has made of itself
before He had called it to the state of spiritual marriage, when,
as He says, He gathered His myrrh with His aromatical spices;
that is, the fruits of flowers now ripe and made ready for the
soul, which are the delights and grandeurs communicated to
it by Himself in this estate, that is Himself, for which He is
to her the pleasant and desirable garden. The whole aim and
desire of the soul and of God, in all this, is the accomplishment
and perfection of this state, and the soul is therefore never
weary till it reaches it; because it finds there a much greater
abundance and fulness in God, a more secure and lasting peace,
and sweetness incomparably more perfect than in the spiritual
espousals, seeing that it reposes between the arms of such a
Bridegroom, whose spiritual embraces are so real that it now,
through them, lives the life of God. Now is fulfilled what
S. Paul referred to, when he said: ‘I live; now not I, but
Christ liveth in me.’t And now that the soul lives a life so
happy and so glorious as this life of God, consider what a life
it must be—a life where God sees nothing displeasing, and
where the soul finds nothing irksome, but rather the glory and
delight of God in the very substance of itself, now transformed
in Him.

‘And there reposes to her heart’s content; her neck
reclining on the sweet arms of her Beloved.’ The neck is
the strength of the soul, by means of which its union with
the Beloved is wrought; for the soul could not endure so
close an embrace if it had not been very strong. And as the
soul has laboured in this strength, practised virtue, overcome
vice, it is fitting that it rest there from its labours, ‘her
neck reclining on the sweet arms of the Beloved.’

* Cant. v, 1. + Galat. ii. 20,

Strength of

soul

STANZA
XXII.

God the
soul’s
strength and
sweetness,

Love the
medium of
nnion and
likeness.

The return
of spring.

122 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

This reclining of the neck on the arms of God is the union

of the soul’s strength, or, rather, of the soul’s weakness, with 7

the strength of God, in Whom our weakness, resting and trans-
formed, puts on the strength of God Himself. The estate of
spiritual matrimony is therefore most fitly designated by the
reclining of the neck on the sweet arms of the Beloved; seeing
that God is the strength and sweetness of the soul, Who
guards and defends it from all evil, and gives it to taste
of all good. Hence the Bride in the Canticle, longing for
this estate, saith to the Bridegroom: ‘ Who shall give
Thee to me for my brother, sucking the breast of my mother,
that I may find Thee without, and kiss Thee, and now no
man may despise me.’* By addressing Him as her Brother
she shows the equality between them in the espousals of
love, before she entered the state of spiritual marriage.

‘Sucking the breast of my mother’ signifies the drying up

of the passions and desires, which are the breasts and milk of
our mother Eve in our flesh, impediments to this estate.
The ‘ finding Him without’ is to find Him when the desires
are quenched, and when the Bride is in solitude, spiritually
detached from all things. ‘ And kiss Thee,’ that is, be united
with the Bridegroom. This is the union of the nature of the
soul, in solitude, cleansed from all impurity, natural, tem-
poral, and spiritual, with the Bridegroom alone, with His
nature, through the sole medium of love—of that love which
is the love of the spiritual marriage, wherein the soul, as it
were, kisses God when none despises it nor makes it afraid.
For in this state the soul is no longer molested, either by the
devil, or the flesh, or the world, or the desires, seeing that
here is fulfilled what is written in the Canticle: ‘ Winter is
now past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers have
appeared in our land.’ ft

* Cant. viii. 1. + Cant. ii, 11, 12.

— Se ae

AM iy wale

3 aoe ie

THE Two TREES—OF PARADISE AND OF CALVARY. 123

INTRODUCTION.

WHEN the soul has been raised up to the state of spiritual sranza
matrimony, the Bridegroom reveals to it, as His faithful a
consort, His own marvellous secrets most readily and most be highest
frequently, for he who truly loves conceals nothing from the *™{swetest
object of his affections. The principal points of His com-
munications are the sweet mysteries of His Incarnation, the

ways and means of Redemption, which is one of the highest

works of God, and to the soul one of the sweetest. Though

He communicates many other mysteries, He mentions here

His Incarnation only, as being the chief; and thus addresses

the soul :—

STANZA XXIIT.

Beneath the apple-tree

I espoused thee: -

There I gave thee My hand,

And thou wert there redeemed
Where thy mother was corrupted.

The Bridegroom tells the soul of the wondrous way of Mankind lost
its redemption and espousal to Himself, by referring to the biden tre.
way in which the human race was lost. As it was by the °°
forbidden tree of Paradise that. our nature was corrupted in
Adam and lost, so it was by the tree of the Cross that it was
redeemed and restored. The Bridegroom there stretched
forth the hand of His grace and mercy, in His death and
passion, ‘making void the law of commandments’* which
original sin had placed between us and God.

* Beneath the apple-tree.’ At the foot of the Cross, where
the Son of God was conqueror, and where He betrothed our
human nature to Himself, and, by consequence, every soul of

* Ephes, ii. 15.

124 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

man. There, on the Cross, He gave us grace and pledges of
His love.

‘I espoused thee, there I gave thee My hand;’ help and
grace, lifting thee up out of thy base and miserable condition
to be My companion and My bride.

* And thou wert there redeemed where thy mother was cor-
rupted.’ Thy mother, human nature, was corrupted in thy first
parents beneath the forbidden tree, and thou wert redeemed
by the tree of the Cross. If thy mother at that tree sentenced
thee to die, I from the Cross have given thee life. It is thus
_ that God reveals the order and dispositions of His wisdom ;
eliciting good from evil, and turning that which has its origin
in evil to be an instrument of greater good. This stanza is
nearly word for word what the Bridegroom in the Canticle
saith to the Bride: ‘ Under the apple-tree I raised thee up;
there thy mother was corrupted ; there she was defloured that
bare thee.’ *

It is not the espousals of the Cross that I am speaking of
now—that takes place, once for all, when God gives the first
grace to the soul in baptism. But I am speaking of the
espousals in the way of perfection, which is a progressive work.
And though both are but one, yet there is a difference
between them. The latter is effected in the way of the soul,
and therefore slowly; the former in the way of God, and
therefore once for all. The espousals of which I am speak-
ing are those of which God speaks Himself by the mouth of
the Prophet, saying: ‘Thou wast cast out upon the face of
the earth in the abjection of thy soul, in the day that thou
wast born. And passing by thee, I saw that thou wast
trodden under foot in thy own blood; and I said to thee
when thou wast in thy blood: Live: I have said to thee, Live in
thy blood. I caused thee to multiply as the bud of the field:

* Cant. viii, 5.

eta

=

| 2” Ve iia Oe ee ee A ee ee - i ~~. _ Ss
Ea is «ee en ag Oe
*

THE BRIDE ARRAYED FOR THE BRIDEGROOM. 125

4 and thou didst increase and grow great, and advancedst, and
camest to woman’s ornament; thy breasts were fashioned
and thy hair grew; and thou wast naked and full of con-
fusion. And I passed by thee and saw thee, and behold thy
time was the time of lovers; and I spread My garment over
thee, and covered thy ignominy. And I swore to thee; and F
entered into a covenant with thee, saith the Lord God; and
thou becamest Mine. And I washed thee with water, and
cleansed away thy blood from thee: and I anointed thee
with oil. AndI clothed thee with embroidery, and shod thee
with violet-coloured shoes, and I girded thee about with fine
linen, and clothed thee with fine garments. I decked thee
also with ornaments, and put bracelets on thy hands, and
a chain about thy neck. And I put a jewel upon thy
forehead and ear-rings in thy ears, and a beautiful crown
upon thy head. And thou wast adorned with gold and
silver, and wast clothed with fine linen, and embroidered
work, and many colours: thou didst eat fine flour, and honey,
and oil, and wast made exceeding beautiful, and wast
advanced to be a queen, And thy renown went forth among
the nations for thy beauty. * These are the words of the
Lord to the prophet Ezechiel, and such is that soul of which

I am now speaking.

INTRODUCTION.

Arter the mutual surrender to each other of the Bride and
the Beloved, comes the bed which receives them both.
Thereon the Bride enters into the joy of Christ. Thus the
present stanza refers to the bed, which is pure and chaste,
and divine, and in which the Bride is pure, divine, and chaste.
The bed is nothing less than the Bridegroom Himself, the

* Ezech. xvi. 5-14,

126 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

Word, the Son of God, in Whom, through the union of love,
the Bride reposes. This bed is said here to be of flowers,
for the Bridegroom is not only that, but, as He says Him-
self, the very ‘ flower of the field and the lily of the val-
Jeys.’* The soul reposes not only on the bed of flowers,
but on that very flower which is the Son of God, and which
contains in itself the Divine odours, fragrance, grace, and
beauty, as it is written: ‘ With Me is the beauty of the
field.’t Thus, the soul, in the stanza that follows celebrates
the properties and beauties of its bed.

STANZA XXIV,
THE BRIDE.
Our bed is of flowers
By the dens of lions encompassed,
Hung with purple,
Made in peace,
And crowned with a thousand shields of gold.

In two of the foregoing stanzas—the fourteenth and the

mion —_fifteenth—the Bride-soul celebrated the grace and magnifi-

cence of the Beloved, the Son of God. In the present
stanza she not only pursues the same subject, but also sings
of her high and blessed state, and her own security in it,
She then proceeds to the virtues and rich gifts with which
she is endowed and adorned in the chamber of the Bride-
groom; for she says that she is in union with Him, and is _
strong in virtue. Next she says that she has attained to the
perfection of love, and then that she enjoys perfect spiritual
peace, endowed and adorned with gifts and graces, so far
as it is possible to enjoy them in this life. The first subject
of the stanza is the joy which the Bride feels in her union
with the Beloved, saying :—

‘Our bed is of flowers. I have already said that this
bed of the soul is the bosom and love of the Son of God,

* Cant, ii, 1. + Ps. xlix. 11.

SAFE AND PEACEFUL REPOSE. 127

which is full of flowers to the soul, who being united now to
God and reposing in Him, as His bride, shares the bosom
and love of the Beloved. That is, the soul is admitted
to the knowledge of the wisdom, secrets and graces, and
gifts and powers of God, which render it so beautiful, so
rich, so abounding in delights, that it seems to be lying
on a bed of many-coloured Divine flowers, the touch of
which makes it thrill with joy, and the odours of which
refresh it.

Hence it follows that this union of love with God is most
appropriately called a bed of flowers, and is so called by the
Bride in the Canticle, saying to the Beloved: ‘ Our bed is of
flowers.’* She speaks of it as ours, because the virtues
and the love, one and the same, of the Beloved are common
to both together, and the delight of both is one and the
same; as it is written: ‘My delights were to be with the
children of men.’ ft The bed is said to be of flowers, because
in this estate the virtues of the soul are perfect and heroic,
which they could not be until the bed had flowered in
perfect union with God.

* By the dens of lions encompassed.’ The dens of lions sig-
nify the virtues with which the soul is endowed in the state
of union. The dens of lions are safe retreats, protected
from all other animals, who, afraid of the boldness and
strength of the lion within, are afraid not only to enter,
but even to appear in sight. So each virtue of the soul
in the state of perfection is like a den of lions where
Christ dwells united to the soul in that virtue; and in
every one of them as a strong lion. The soul also, united
to Him in those very virtues, is as a strong lion, because
it then assumes the characteristics of God. Thus, then, the
perfect soul is so defended, so strong in virtue, and in all

* Cant. i. 15. + Prov. viii. 31.

Satan in
dread of the
perfect soul.

128 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE,

virtues together, reposing on the bed of flowers of its union
with God, that the evil spirits are not only afraid to
assault it, but even dare not appear before it. Such is
their dread of it, when they behold it strong, courageous, and
mature in virtues, on the bed of the Beloved. The evil
spirits fear a soul transformed in the union of love as
much as they fear the Beloved Himself, and they dare not
look upon it, for Satan is in great fear of that soul which
has attained to perfection.

The soul’s bed is encompassed by virtues: for when the
soul has advanced to perfection, the virtues which adorn
it are so joined together and bound up one with another,
each supporting the other, that no part of it is weak or ex-
posed ; not only is Satan unable to penetrate within it, but
even worldly things, whether great or little, fail to disturb or
annoy it. The soul, now free from the molestation of natural
affections, and a stranger to the worry’of human anxieties,
enjoys in security and peace the participation of God.

This is the object of the Bride’s desires when she says:
‘Who shall give Thee to me for my brother, sucking the
breast of my mother, that I may find Thee without, and kiss
Thee, and now no man may despise me?’* The ‘kiss’ here
is the union of which I am speaking, whereby the soul be-
comes in a sense like God in love. This is the object it
desires when it says: ‘Who shall give Thee to me for my
brother?’ That is, Who shall make me resemble Thee?
‘ Sucking the breast of my mother ;’ that is, destroying all the
imperfections and desires of nature which the soul inherits
from its mother Eve. ‘That I may find Thee without ;’ that
is, be united to Thee alone, away from all things, in detachment
of the will and desires. ‘ And now no man may despise me;’
that is, the world, the Devil, and the flesh will not-venture

* Cant. viii. 1.

-.)) ae

q

PERFUME BY DIVINE FLOWERS. 129

to assail it, for being now free and purified, and also united
to God, none of these can molest it. Thus, then, the soul is

in the enjoyment now of habitual sweetness and tranquillity
that never fail it.

But beside this habitual tranquillity, the flowers of virtues
open in the soul and diffuse their odours over it, so that it
seems to be, and is, full of the delights of God. I say that

_ the flowers open; because the soul, though filled with virtues

in perfection, is not always in*the actual fruition of them,
notwithstanding its habitual perception of the peace and tran-
quillity which they produce. We may say of these virtues
that they are like the budding flowers of a garden; they offer
a most beautiful sight—opening under the inspirations of
the Holy Ghost—and diffuse most marvellous perfumes
in great variety. Sometimes the soul will detect in itself
the mountain flowers—the fulness, grandeur, and beauty of
God—intermingled with the lilies of the valley—rest, refresh-
ment, and defence; and again, the fragrant roses of the unknown
islands—the strange knowledge of God; and further, the per-
fume of the water lilies of the roaring torrents—the greatness
of God filling the whole soul. And amid all this, it enjoys
the exquisite fragrance of the jasmine, and the whisper of
the amorous gales, the fruition of which is granted to the
soul in the estate of union. Finally, it detects all the other
virtues and graces, the calm knowledge, silent music, mur-
muring solitude, and the sweet supper of love; and the joy of
this feeling in the soul is such as to make it say in truth,
‘Our bed is of flowers, by the dens of lions encompassed.’
Blessed is that soul which in this life deserves at times to
enjoy the perfume of these Divine flowers.

‘Hung with purple.’ Purple in Holy Scripture means
charity, and is employed for royal vestments. The bed is
hung with purple, because all the virtues, riches, and blessings

of it are sustained, flourish, and exult in charity and in love

VOL. Il. K

3. Perfected
by charity.

130 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

stanza for the King of Heaven; since without that love the soul can
never delight in the bed nor in the flowers thereof.
Virtues pree All these virtues are, in the soul, as it were hung or dis-
charity, played in love for God, as in that which preserves them, —
and they are, as it were, bathed in love; for all and each of
them inspire the soul with love for God, and on all occasions,
and in all actions, they advance in love to a greater love for
God. This is what is meant by saying that the bed is hung
with purple. °
This is well expressed in the Canticle as follows: ‘ King
Solomon hath made himself a litter of the wood of Libanus :
the pillars thereof he made of silver, the seat of gold, the
going up of purple; the midst he covered with charity.’ *
The virtues and graces which God lays inthe bed of the soul
are signified by the wood of Libanus: the pillars of silver and
the seat of gold are love; for, as I have said, the virtues are
supported by love, and by the love of God and of the soul
are harmonized together and practised.
4. Casts out § Made in peace.’ This is the fourth excellence of the
bed, and depends on the third, of which I have just spoken,
that is, perfect charity, the property of which is, as the
Apostle saith, to cast out fear;f hence the perfect peace of
the soul, which is the fourth excellence of this bed. For the
clearer understanding of this truth we must keep in mind
that each virtue is in itself peaceful, gentle, and strong, and
consequently, in the soul which possesses them, produces
peace, gentleness, and fortitude. Now, as the bed is of
flowers, formed of the flowers of virtues, all of which are
Theol peaceful, gentle, and strong, it follows that the bed is wrought
——— in peace, and that the soul is peaceful, gentle, and strong,
which are three qualities unassailable by the world, Satan,
and the flesh. The virtues preserve the soul so peaceful

* Cant, iii. 9, 10, + 18. John iy. 18,

VIRTUES A CROWN AND DEFENCE. 131

| ee and so secure as to make it appear to be wholly built up
in peace. The fifth characteristic of this bed of flowers is

am explained in the following words.

_ _ Crowned with a thousand shields of gold.’ The shields are *.
__ the virtues and graces of the soul, which, though they are also

the flowers, serve for its crown, and the reward of the toil
_ by which they are acquired. They serve also, like strong

___ ghields, as a protection against vice, which is overcome by the
_ practice of them; and the bridal bed of flowers therefore,

that is the virtues, the crown and defence, is adorned with
them by way of reward, and protected by them as with a
shield. The shields are of gold, to show the great worth of
the virtues. The bride in the Canticle sets forth the same
truth, saying: ‘ Three score valiant ones of the most valiant
of Israel surround the bed of Solomon, all holding swords ;

. . + every man’s sword upon his thigh, because of fears
in the night.’*

Thus in this stanza the Bride speaks of a thousand shields,
to express the variety of the virtues, gifts, and graces where-
with God has endowed the soul in the state of union. The
Bridegroom in the Canticle also has employed the same ex-
pression, in order to show forth the innumerable virtues of
the soul: * Thy neck is as the tower of David, which is built
with bulwarks; a thousand bucklers hang upon it, all
the armour of valiant men.’ f

* INTRODUCTION,

Tue bride of Christ, having attained to perfection, is not
satisfied with magnifying and extolling the excellences of her
Beloved, the Son of God, nor with recounting and giving

* Cant. iii. 7, 8. + Cant. iv. 4.

132 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

thanks for, the graces she has received at His hands and the

————— joy into which she has entered, but she recounts also the

Three graces
given to
devout souls ;

1, Spiritual
sweetness,
2. Visits of
love, ‘

3. Infused
charity.

Footsteps of
God,—-what.

graces He has conferred on other souls. In this blessed union

of love the soul is able to contemplate both its own and others’
graces; thus praising Him and giving Him thanks for the
many graces bestowed upon others, the soul sings as in the
following stanza.

STANZA XXYV,

In Thy footsteps,

The young ones run Thy way ;
At the touch of the fire,

And by the spiced wine,

The Divine balsam flows.

Here the Bride gives praise to her Beloved for three graces
which devout souls receive from Him, by which they encou-
rage and excite themselves to love God moreand more. She
speaks of them here, because she has had experience of them
herself in this state of union. The first is sweetness, which
He gives them, and which is so efficacious that it makes
them run swiftly on the road of perfection. The second is
the visit of love, by which they are suddenly set on fire with
love. The third is overflowing charity infused into them,

with which He so inebriates them, that they are as much.

excited by it as by the visit of love, to utter the praises of
God, and to love Him with all sweetness.

‘In Thy footsteps.’ These are the marks on the ground
by which we trace the course of one we seek. The sweetness
and knowledge of Himself which God communicates to the
soul that seeks Him, are the footsteps by which it traces and
recognises Him. Thus the soul says to the Word, the Bride-
groom, ‘In Thy footsteps ;’ in the traces of Thy sweetness
which Thou diffusest, and the odours which Thou scatterest.

‘The young ones run Thy way.’ Devout souls run with
youthful vigour in the sweetness which Thy footsteps com-

4
¥,

s
4
4

CES ian

RUNNING IN THE WAY OF LIFE. 133

_ ‘nimicate. They run in many ways and in various directions—

each according to the spirit which God bestows, and the voca-

tion He has given—in the diversified forms of spiritual service
on the road of everlasting life, which is evangelical perfection,
where they meet the Beloved in the union of love, in detach-
ment from all things. This sweetness and impression of

_ Himself which God leaves in the soul, renders it light and

active, so as to run after Him ; for the soul then does little
or nothing in its own strength towards running along this
road, being rather attracted by the Divine footsteps, so that
it not only advances, but even runs by many methods. The
Bride in the Canticle, therefore, prays for the Divine attrac-
tion, saying: ‘ Draw me, we will run after Thee to the odour
of Thy ointments ;’* and David saith: ‘I have run the way of
Thy commandments, when Thou didst enlarge my heart.’ t

‘ At the touch of the fire, and by the spiced wine, the Divine
balsam flows.’ I said, while explaining the previous. lines,
that souls run in His footsteps in the way of exterior works
and practices. But the three lines I have just quoted refer
to the interior acts of the will, when souls are under the
influence of the other two graces and interior visits of the
Beloved. These are the touch of fire, and spiced wine; and
the interior act of the will, which is the result of these visits,
is the flowing of the Divine balsam. The contact of the fire
is that most delicate touch of the Beloved which the soul
feels at times, even when least expecting it, and which is so
penetrating that the heart is set on fire with love. It seems
to be but a spark of fire leaping up and burning. Then
the will, in an instant, like one roused from sleep, burns
with the fire of love, longs for God, praises Him and
gives Him thanks, worships and esteems Him, and prays to
Him in the sweetness of its love. This is the flowing of

* Cant. i. 3. + Ps. cxviii. 32,

Attractions
of Divine
Love.

. 184 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

STANZA
XXV.

the Divine balsam, which obeys the touch of the fire that

———— issues forth from the consuming love for God which that fire

The strong
wine of love
for God.

kindled—the Divine balsam which comforts the soul and
heals it with its odour and its substance. |

The Bride in the Canticle speaks of this Divine touch, —
saying: ‘My Beloved put His hand through the key-hole,
and my bowels were moved at His touch.’* The touch of
the Beloved is the touch of love, and His hand is the grace
He bestows upon the soul, and the hole by which His hand
penetrated is the vocation and the perfection, at least the
degree of perfection, of the soul; for according thereto will
His touch be heavier or lighter, in proportion to its spiritual
state. The bowels that were moved are the will, in which
the touch is effected, and the moving of them is the stirring
up of the desires and affections to love and praise God, which
is the flowing of the balsam that runs forth at this contact.

‘The spiced wine’ is that exceeding great grace which God
sometimes bestows upon advanced souls, when the Holy Spirit
inebriates them with the sweet, luscious, and strong wine of
love. Hence it is here called spiced wine, for as such wine is
prepared by fermentation with many and divers aromatic and
strong herbs; so this love, the gift of God to the perfect, is
in the soul prepared and seasoned with virtues which it has
already acquired. This love, seasoned with the precious
spices, communicates to the soul such a strong abundant ine-
briation when God visits it, that it sends forth with great
efficacy those acts of praise, love, and worship, which I
referred to before, and that with a marvellous longing to do,
and to suffer for Him.

This sweet inebriation and grace, however, do net pass
quickly away, like the contact of the fire, for they are of
longer continuance. The fire touches and passes, but the

* Cant. v. 4,

NEW AND OLD WINE. 135

effects abide fora time. But the spiced wine at times remains

long, and its effects also; this is the sweet love of the soul,
and continues occasionally a day or two, sometimes even many
days together, though not always in the same degree of
intensity, because it is not in the power of the soul to control
it. Sometimes the soul, without any effort of its own, is
conscious of a most sweet interior inebriation, and of the
Divine love burning within, as David saith: * My heart grew
hot within me, and in my meditation a fire shall flame out.’*

The outpourings of this inebriation last sometimes as long
as the inebriation itself. At other times of this inebriation
there are no outpourings; and they are more or less intense
when they occur, in proportion to the greater or less intensity
of the inebriation itself. But the outpourings, or effects of
the fire, generally last longer than the fire which caused them;
yea, rather the fire leaves them behind in the soul, and they
are more vehement than those which proceed from the
inebriation, for sometimes this Divine fire burns up and con-
sumes the soul in love.

As I have mentioned fermented wine, it will be as well to
touch upon the difference between it—we call it old wine —and
new wine. For since the difference between old love and
new love is the same, the comparison will furnish some hints
of doctrine for spiritually-minded men. New wine has not
settled on the lees, and therefore ferments over; we cannot

ascertain its quality or value before it has settled, and the

fermentation ceased, for until then there is great risk of its
corruption. The taste of it is rough and sharp, and an im-
moderate draught of it intoxicates. Old wine has settled on
the lees, and ferments no more like new wine; the quality of
it is easily ascertained, and is now safe from corruption, for
all fermentation which might have proved pernicious has

* Ps. a te

136 1 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

entirely ceased. Well fermented wine is very rarely spoiled,
the taste of it is pleasant, and its strength is in its own sub-
stance, not in the palate of him who drinks it, and the use
thereof produces health and a sound constitution.

New lovers are compared to new wine—these are beginners
in the service of God—because the fervour of their love mani-
fests itself exteriorly in the senses; because they have not
settled on the lees of their frail and imperfect sensitive nature ;
and because they measure the strength of love by the sweet-
ness of it. Sensible sweetness gives them ordinarily their
strength for good works, and it is by this they are influenced ;
we must, therefore, place no confidence in this love till the
fermentation has subsided, and the sensible emotions have
passed away. For as these fervours and this sensible warmth
may incline men to good and to perfect love, and serve as
an excellent means thereto, if men will but settle well on the
lees of their imperfections; so also is it very easy at first,
when sensible sweetness is fresh, for the wine of love to fail,
for fervour to cool down, and sweetness to vanish. New
lovers are always anxious, sensibly tormented by their love;
it is requisite therefore for them to moderate this state. If
they undertake much in the strength of this wine, their natural
powers will be ruined with these anxieties and fatigues of the
new wine, which is rough and sharp, and not made sweet in
the perfect fermentation, which then takes place when the
anxieties of love are over, as I shall show immediately.

The Wise Man employs the same illustration ; saying, ‘A
new friend is as new wine; it shall grow old, and thou shalt
drink it with pleasure.’* Old lovers, therefore, those who have
been tried and proved in the service of the Bridegroom, are
like old wine settled on the lees; they have no sensible
emotions, nor overflowing bursts of exterior zeal, but they

* Ecclus, ix. 15.

<
#

THE OLD FRIEND OF GOD. 137

taste the sweetness of the wine of love, now thoroughly fer-

mented, free from the sensible sweetness of the love of begin-
ners, but rather settled within the soul in the substance and ?™"¥

sweetness of the spirit, and the reality of its acts. Such souls
as these do not seek after sensible sweetness and fervours,
neither do they accept them, lest they should suffer from
loathing and weariness; for he who gives the reins to his
desires in matters of the sensitive appetite, must of necessity
suffer pain and loathing, both in mind and body.

Old lovers therefore, free from that spiritual sweetness 2.

which has its roots in the senses, suffer neither in sense nor
spirit from the anxieties of love, and therefore scarcely ever
prove faithless to God, because they have risen above that
which might prove an occasion of falling, namely, the flesh.
These now drink of the wine of love, which is not only fer-
mented and settled on the lees, but spiced also with the
aromatic herbs of perfect virtues, which will not allow it to
corrupt, as may happen to new wine.

For this cause an old friend is of great price in the eyes of
God, ‘ Forsake not an old friend, for the new will not be like
to him.’* It is through this wine of love, tried and spiced,
that the Divine Beloved produces in the soul that Divine
inebriation, under the influence of which it sends forth to God
the sweet and delicious outpourings. The meaning of these
three lines, therefore, is as follows: ‘At the touch of the
fire’ by which Thou stirrest up the soul, and by the spiced
wine with which Thou dost so lovingly inebriate it, the soul
pours forth the acts and movements of love which Thou pro-
ducest in it.

* Ecclus, ix. 14,

3. In rich-
ness of tricd
virtue.

138 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

INTRODUCTION.

STANZA Suc, then, is the state of the blessed soul in the bed of
Tampysme Owers, where all these blessings, and meggmpore, are granted
De =«=it. ~The seat of that bed is the Son of God, and the hangings
ree of it are the charity and love of the Bridegroom Himself. The
soul now may say, with the Bride: ‘ His left hand is under
my head,’* and we may therefore say, in truth, that such a
soul is clothed in God, and bathed in the Divinity, and that,
not as it were on the surface, but in the interior spirit, and filled
with the Divine delights in the abundance of the spiritual
waters of life; it experiences that which David says of those
who have drawn near unto God, ‘They shall be inebriated
with the plenty of Thy house, and Thou shalt make them
drink of the torrent of Thy pleasure, for with Thee is the
fountain of life. t This fulness will be in the very being of
the soul, seeing that its drink is nothing else than the torrent
of delights, which is the Holy Spirit, as it is written: * And
he showed me a river of water of life, clear as crystal, pro-
ceeding from the throne of God and the Lamb.’{ The waters
of this river, which is the very love of God, pour into the soul,
and make it drink of the torrent of love, which is the Spirit
of the Bridegroom infused into the soul in union. Thence
the soul in the overflowing of love sings the following stanza:

STANZA XXVI,

In the inmost cellar
Of my Beloved have I drunk ; and when I went forth
Over all the plain
I knew nothing,
And lost the flock I followed before.
Here the soul speaks of that supreme grace of God in
taking it to Himself into the house of His love, which is

the union of it with Himself, or its transformation in love.

* Cant. ii. 6. + Ps, xxxv. 9, t Apoc. xxii, 1,

PERFECT FEAR, PERFECT LOVE. 139

It describes two effects proceeding therefrom : its forgetfulness
of, and detachment from, all the things of this world, and
the mortification of its tastes and desires.

‘In the inmost cellar.’ In order to explain in any degree
the meaning of this, I have need of the special help of the
Holy Ghost, to direct my hand and guide my pen. The
cellar is the highest degree of love to which the soul may
attain in this life, and is therefore said to be the inmost. It
follows from this that there are other cellars not so interior ;
other degrees of love by which souls ascend upwards to this,
the highest. These cellars are seven in number, and the soul
has entered into them all when it has in perfection the seven
gifts of the Holy Ghost, so far as it is possible in this life.
When the soul has the spirit of fear in perfection, it has in
perfection also the spirit of love, inasmuch as this fear, the
last of the seven gifts, is filial fear, and the perfect fear of a
son proceeds from his perfect love for his father. Thus when
the Holy Scriptures would describe one as having perfect
charity, it says of him that he fears God. So the Prophet
Isaias, announcing the perfections of Christ, saith of Him:
* He shall be filled with the spirit of the fear of the Lord.’ *
Holy Simeon also is described by the Evangelist as a ‘just
man full of fear, ¢ and the same applies to many others.

Many souls reach and enter the first cellar, each according
to the perfection of its love, but the last and inmost cellar is
entered by few in this world, because those who do so must
be in perfect union with God, the union of the spiritual
marriage, of which Iam here speaking. What God com-
municates to the soul in this intimate union is utterly
ineffable, beyond the reach of all possible words—just as it is
impossible to speak of God Himself, so as to convey any
idea of what He is— because it is God Himself who com-

* Is. xi, 3. + S. Luke ii, 25, Justus et timoratus,

STANZA
XXVI.

Tilustrations
of union with
God by love.

140 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

municates Himself to the soul now in the marvellous glory of
its transformation. In this high estate God and the soul
are united, as the window is with the light, coal with the
fire, and the light of the stars with that of the sun, yet, how-
ever, not so essentially and completely as it will be in the
life to come. The soul, therefore, to show what it received
from the hands of God in the cellar of wine, says nothing
else, and I do not believe that anything else could be said
but the words which follow:

‘Of my Beloved have I drunk.’ As a draught diffuses
itself through all the members and veins of the body, so this
communication of God diffuses itself substantially in the
whole soul, or rather, the soul is transformed in God. In
this transformation the soul drinks of God in its very sub-
stance and its spiritual powers. In the intellect it drinks
wisdom and knowledge, in the will the sweetest love, in the
memory refreshment and delight in the thought and sense
of glory. That the soul receives and drinks delight in its
very substance, appears from the words of the Bride in the
Canticle: ‘My soul melted when He spoke;’* that is, when
the Bridegroom communicated Himself to the soul.

That the intellect drinks wisdom is also evident from the
words of the Bride longing and praying for the kiss of union:
‘There Thou shall teach me, and I will give thee a cup of
spiced wine.’t Thou shalt teach me wisdom and knowledge
in love, and I will give Thee a cup of spiced wine, that is,
my love mingled with Thine. The Bride further teaches us
that the will drinks of love, saying, ‘He brought me into
the cellar of wine, and set in order charity in me,’{ that is,
He gave me, accepted in love, to drink of love; or, to speak
more clearly, he set in order charity in me, tempering His
charity and suiting it to me. This is to give the soul to

* Cant. v. 6. + Cant. viii, 2. t Cant. ii, 4.

WE MAY KNOW LITTLE AND LOVE MUCH. 141

; a asi nk of the very love of its Beloved, which the Beloved

infuses into it.

There is a common notion that the will cannot love that
of which the intellect has no cognisance. This, however, is
to be understood in the order of nature, because it is
impossible, in a natural way, to love anything unless we first
know what it is. But in the supernatural order the axiom is
not true; for God can infuse love without infusing know-
ledge, and increase it without increasing distinct knowledge,
as is evident from the texts already quoted. Yea, many
spiritual persons have experience of this, whose love for
God burns more and more, while their knowledge grows not.
Men may know little and love much, and on the other
hand, know much and love but little. In general, spiritual
men whose understanding in the things of God is not in-
creasing, are yet advancing in the will. Faith infused by
the way of the intellect suffices for them; because by means
of it God infuses and increases charity in them and the acts
thereof, and they love Him more and more though their
knowledge is not increased. Thus the will may drink of
love without the intellect’s drinking in new knowledge. In
the present instance, however, all the powers of the soul
together, because of the union in the inmost cellar, drink
of the Beloved. |

As to the memory, it is clear that the soul drinks of the
Beloved in it, because it is enlightened with the light of the
intellect in remembering the blessings it possesses and enjoys
in union with the Beloved.

* And when I went forth.’ This Divine draught deifies the
soul, elevates and inebriates it in God, even in the time of its
going forth, that is, when this grace has passed. Though the
soul be always in the high estate of marriage ever since God
has placed it there, yet actual union in all its powers is not
continuous, though the substantial union abides. But in
this substantial union the powers of the soul are most

of Divine

Its formal
cause,-—

142 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

frequently in union, and drink of His cellar, the intellect by
understanding, the will by loving, &c. We are not, there-
fore, to suppose that the soul, though saying that it went
out, has ceased from its substantial or essential union with
God, but only from the union of its faculties, which is not,
and cannot be, permanent in this life; from this union then
it went forth when it wandered over all the plain, that is,
through the whole breadth of the world.

‘I knew nothing.” This draught of God’s most deep
wisdom makes the soul forget all the things of this world.
The soul considers all its previous knowledge, and the know-
ledge of the whole world besides, but pure ignorance in com-
parison with His knowledge. Observe, here, that the formal
cause of the soul’s ignoring the things of the world, when it
has ascended to this high estate, is, that it is informed by
supernatural knowledge, in the presence of which all natural
and political science is ignorance rather than knowledge.
Thus the soul, when raised up to this most sublime know-
ledge, understandeth thereby that all knowledge whatever
other than this, is not knowledge, but ignorance, and that
there is nothing else but this to be known. The very same
truth is set before us by the Apostle, when he said that * the
wisdom of this world is foolishness with God.’* The soul
therefore says of itself, that it knows nothing since it has
drunk of the wisdom of God. This truth cannot be acknow-
ledged—for according to the wisdom of men and of the world,
it is simple ignorance, and unworthy of regard—except in the
truth of God in the soul, communicating this wisdom to it,
and strengthening it with the draught of love that it may see
clearly. This is the meaning of Solomon when he said: ‘ The
vision which the man spoke, with whom God is, and who being
strengthened by God abiding with him, said: I am the most
foolish of men, and the wisdom of men is not with me.’ f

* 1 Cor. iii. 19, + Prov, xxx. 1, 2.

a? . oe | 2 _gaiwaig
F Sr se

WISDOM AND FOLLY. 143

_ When the soul is elevated to this high wisdom of God, the

wisdom of man is in its eyes the lowest ignorance: all natural
science and the works of God if accompanied by ignorance of
Him, are as ignorance; for where He is not known, there
nothing is known. ‘The deep things of God are foolishness
to men.’* Thus the divinely wise and the worldly wise are
fools in the estimation of each other; for the latter cannot
understand the wisdom and science of God, nor the former
those of the world. The wisdom of the world, therefore, is
ignorance in comparison with the wisdom of God; and the
wisdom of God is ignorance with respect to that of the
world.

Moreover, this deification and elevation of the soul in God
whereby it is, as it were, rapt and absorbed in love, and
wholly united to God, suffer it not to dwell upon any worldly
matter. The soul is now detached, not only from all exterior
things, but even from itself: it is as it were annihilated,
assumed by, and dissolved in, love; that is, it passes out of
itself into the Beloved. Thus the Bride, in the Canticle,
after speaking of her transformation by love into the Be-
loved, expresses her state of ignorance by the words ‘ I knew
not.’ The soul is now ina certain sense, like Adam in para-
dise, who knew no evil. Itis so innocent that it sees no evil;
neither does it consider anything amiss. It will hear much
that is evil, and will see it with its eyes, and yet it shall not
be able to understand it, because it has no evil habits whereby
to judge of it. God has rooted out of it those imperfect
habits and that ignorance resulting from the evil of sin, by
the perfect habit of true wisdom. Thus, also, the soul knows
nothing on this subject.

Such a soul will scarcely intermeddle with the affairs of
others, because it forgets even its own; for the Spirit of God

* 1 Cor. ii, 14, + Cant. vi. 11.

Z
é

+
é

az

144 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

dwelling in it inclines it to ignore all things, especially
such as do not minister to edification. The Spirit of God
abides within the soul to withdraw it from outward things
rather than to lead it among them; and thus the soul is in
a state of ignorance. We are not, however, to suppose that
it loses the habits of knowledge previously acquired, for such
knowledge is improved by the more perfect habit of super-
natural knowledge infused, though these habits be not so
powerful as to necessitate knowledge through them, and yet
there is no reason why they should not do so occasionally.
In this union of the Divine Wisdom these habits are united
with the higher wisdom of the other knowledge, as a little light
with another which is great; it is the great light that shines
overwhelming the less, yet the latter is not therefore lost, but
rather perfected, though it be not the light which shines pre-
eminently. This, I imagine, will be the state of things in
Heaven; the acquired habits of knowledge in the Just will
not be destroyed, though they will be of no great importance
there, seeing that the Just will know more in the Divine
Wisdom than by the habits acquired on earth. :
But the particular notions and forms of things, acts of the .
imagination and every other apprehension haying form and
figure, are all lost and ignored in this absorbing love, and |
this for two reasons. First, the soul cannot actually attend
to any thing of the kind, because it is actually absorbed by
this draught of love. Secondly, and this is the principal
reason, its transformation in God so conforms it to His
purity and simplicity—for there is no form or imaginary
figure in Him—as to render it pure, cleansed and empty of
all the forms and figures it entertained before, being now
purified and enlightened in simple contemplation. All
spots and stains in the glass become invisible when the sun
shines upon it, but they appear again as soon as the light of —
the sun is withheld. So is it with the soul; while the effects

-
~~

THE SHEPHERD LOSES HIS FLOCK. 145

4 - of this act of love continue, this ignorance continues also, so

that it cannot observe anything in particular until these
_ effects have ceased. Love has set the soul on fire and trans-
muted it into love, has annihilated it and destroyed it as to
all that is not love, according to the words of the Psalmist:
‘My heart hath been inflamed, and my reins have been
changed; and I am brought to nothing, and I knew not.’*

“The changing of the reins, because the heart is inflamed, is
ry the changing of the soul, in all its desires and actions, in
God, into a new manner of life, the utter undoing and

annihilation of the old man. This is what the royal Prophet

meant when he said that he was brought to nothing and
knew not.

These are the two effects of drinking the wine of the cellar
of God; not only is all previous knowledge brought to
nothing, and made to vanish away, but the old life also wit
its imperfections is destroyed, and into the new man renewed ;
this is the second of the two effects mentioned here.

‘ And lost the flock I followed before.’ Until the soul
reaches the state of perfection, however spiritual it may be,
there is always a troop of desires, likings and imperfections,
sometimes natural, sometimes spiritual, after which it runs,
and which it strives to feed while following and satisfying
them. With regard to the intellect, there are certain im-
perfections of the desire of knowledge. With regard to the
will, certain likings and peculiar desires, whether in temporal
things, as the wish to possess certain trifles, and attachment
to some things more than to others, certain prejudices,
considerations, and punctilios, with other vanities of the like
nature, still savouring of the world: or in natural things,
such as in eating and drinking, the preference of one kind
of food over another, and the choice of what is best: or

* Ps, lxxii. 21, 22.
VOL. I. L

Infinite love
and tender-
ness of God.

it =

146 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

in spiritual things, such as seeking for sweetness, and other
follies of spiritual persons not yet perfect, too numerous to
recount here. As to the memory, there are there many in-
consistencies, anxieties, unseemly reminiscences, which drag
the soul captive after them.

The four passions of the soul also involve it in many
useless hopes, joys, griefs and fears, after which it runs.
As to this flock, as I have called it, some men are more
influenced by it than others; they run after and follow it,
until they enter the inmost cellar, where they lose it alto-
gether, being then transformedin love. In that cellar the
flock of imperfections is quickly lost, as rust and mould on
metal is lost in fire. Then the soul feels itself free from the

pettiness of self-likings and the vanities after which it ran — |

before, and sings, I have lost the flock which I followed
after.

INTRODUCTION.

Gop communicates Himself to the soul in this interior
union with so much reality of love that a mother’s love towards
her child, the love of a brother, or the affection of a friend,
are not to be compared with it. Such is the tenderness and
love with which the Infinite Father comforts and exalts the
humble and loving soul. O wonders worthy of all awe and
reverence! He humbles Himself in reality before that soul
that he may exalt it, as if He were the servant, and the soul
His lord. He is as anxious to comfort it, as if He were a
slave, and the soul God. Such is the depth of the humility
and tenderness of God. In this communion of love He
renders those services to the soul which He says in the
Gospel, He will perform for the elect in Heaven. ‘Amen, I

.
;
ee

.
ee ee pe

= See

MUTUAL AND UNRESERVED SURRENDER. 147

say to you, that He will gird Himself and make them sit
down to meat, and will come and serve them.’ *

This very service He renders now to the soul, comforting
and cherishing it, as a mother her child whom she nurtures
in her bosom. And the soul recognises herein the truth of
what the Prophet said, ‘ You shall be carried at the breasts,
and upon the knees they shall caress you.’+ What must the
feelings of the soul be amid these supreme mercies? How
it will melt away in love, beholding the bosom of God opened
for it with such overflowing love. When the soul perceives
itself in the midst of these delights, it surrenders itself
wholly to God, gives to Him the breasts of its own will and
love, and under the influence thereof addresses the Beloved
in the words of the Bride saying, ‘I to my Beloved, and his
turning is towardsme. Come my Beloved, let us go forth into
the field, let us abide in the villages. Let us get up early to
the vineyards, let us see if the vineyard flourish, if the flowers
be ready to bring forth fruits, if the pomegranates flourish ;
there will I give Thee my breasts,’ that is, I will employ all
the joy and power of my will in the service of Thy love.
This mutual surrender in this union of the soul and God is
the subject of the stanza which follows :—

STANZA XXVIII.

There He gave me His breasts,

There He taught me the science full of sweetness,
And there I gave to Him

Myself without reserve ;

There I promised to be His bride.

Here the soul speaks of the two contracting parties in this
spiritual betrothal, itself and God. In the inmost cellar of

* 8. Luke xii, 37, t Is, Ixvi. 12.
L2

STANZA

STANZA
XXXVI.

Mystical
Theology,—
what,

148 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

love they both met together, God giving to the soul the
breasts of His love freely, whereby He instructs it in His
mysteries and knowledge, and the soul also actually sur-
rendering itself, making no reservation whatever either in its
own favour or in that of others, promising to be His for ever.

‘There He gave me His breasts.’ To give the breast to
another is to love and cherish him and communicate one’s
secrets to him as a friend. The soul says here that God
gave it His breasts, that is, He gave it His love and commu-
nicated His secrets to it. It is thus that God deals with
the soul in this state as it appears also from the words
that follow :— 7

‘ There He taught me the science full of sweetness.’ This
science is Mystical Theology, which is the secret science of
God and which spiritual men call contemplation. It is most
full of sweetness because it is knowledge by love, love is the
master of it, and it is love that renders it so sweet. Inas-
much as this science and knowledge are communicated to the
soul in that love with which God communicates Himself, it
is therefore sweet to the intellect, because the object of
intellect is science, and sweet to the will, because it comes
by love which is the object of the will.

‘ There I gave to Him myself wihout reserve.’ The soul;
in this sweet draught of God, surrenders itself to Him most
willingly and with great sweetness; it desires to be wholly
His, and to retain nothing in itself which is unbecoming His
Majesty. God is the author of this union, and of the purity
and perfection requisite for it; and as the transformation of
the soul in Himself makes it His, He empties it of all that is
alien to Himself. Thus it comes to pass that, not in will only
but in act as well, the whole soul is entirely given to God
without any reserve whatever, as God has given Himself
freely unto it. The will of God and of the soul are both
satisfied, each given up to the other, in mutual delight, so

i)
-_

a.
-
“
a

PERFECT OBEDIENCE TO THE LAW OF LOVE. 149

5d = that neither fails the other in the faith and constancy of the

betrothal.

‘There I promised to be His bride.’ Asa bride does not
give her love to another, and as all her thoughts and actions
are directed to her bridegroom only, so the soul now has no
_ affections of the will, no acts of the intellect, neither object
- nor occupation of any kind which it does not wholly refer unto
God, together with all its desires. The soul is as it were
absorbed in God, and even its first movements have nothing
in them—so far as it can comprehend them—which is at
variance with the will of God. The first movements of an
imperfect soul in general are, at least, inclined to evil, in the
intellect, the memory, the will, in its desires and imperfections -
but those of the soul, which has attained to the spiritual state
of which I am speaking, are ordinarily directed to God, be-
cause of the great help and courage it derives from Him, and
its perfect conversion to goodness. . This is set forth with great
clearness by David, when he saith: ‘Shall not-my soul be
subject to God? For from Him is my salvation. For He is
my God and my Saviour; He is my protector, I shall be moved
no more.’* * He is my protector’ means, that the soul being
now received under the protection of God and united to Him,
could be no longer liable to any movements contrary to God.

It is quite clear from all this that the soul, which has
attained to the spiritual betrothal, knows nothing else but
the love of the Bridegroom and the delights thereof, because it
has arrived at perfection, the form and substance of which is
love, according to 8S. Paul.t The more a soul loves, the more
perfect it is in its love, and hence it follows, that the soul,
which is already perfect, is, if we may say so, all love, all its
actions are love, all its energies and strength are love. It
gives up all it has, like the wise merchant in the Gospel ;t

* Ps, lxi. 2, 3. T Coloss, iii. 14. } S. Matth. xiii. 44,

STANZA
XXVIL.

STANZA
XXVII.

God pleased
with nothing
but love.

Because love
accomplishes
the soul's

growth,
which He
desires.

150 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

for this treasure of love hidden in God, and which is so
precious in His sight, that the Beloved cares for nothing else
but love; the soul, therefore, seeing this, and anxious to serve
Him perfectly, occupies itself -wholly with pure love for
God, not only because love does so occupy it, but also because
the love, wherein it is united, influences it towards love for
God in and through all things. As the bee draws honey

- from all plants, and makes use of them only for that end,

so the soul most easily draws the sweetness of love from all
that happens to it; it makes all things subserve it towards
loving God, whether they be sweet or bitter. The soul now
animated and protected by love, has no sense, feeling, or
knowledge, because, as I have said, it knows nothing but
love, and all its occupations and pleasures are the joys of
love for God. This forms the subject of the following stanza.

INTRODUCTION.

I HAVE said that God is pleased with nothing but love; but
before I explain this, it will be as well to set forth the grounds
on which the assertion rests, All our works, and all our
labours, how grand soever they may be, are nothing in the
sight of God, for we can give Him nothing, neither can we
by them fulfil His desire, which is the growth of our soul;
as to Himself he desires nothing of this, for he has need of
nothing, and so, if He is pleased with anything it is with the
growth of the soul; and as there is no way in which the soul
grows more than in becoming in a manner equal to Him, for
this reason only is He pleased with our love. It is the
property of love to place him who loves on an equality with
the object of his love. Hence the soul, because of its perfect
love, is called the bride of the Son of God, which signifies

dpe ak Tag Ss ee tl

THE SOLE OCCUPATION OF LOVE. 161

equality with Him. In this equality and friendship all things
are common, as the Bridegroom Himself said to His disciples :
‘I have called you friends, because all things, what-
soever [ have heard of my Father, I have made known
to you.’ *

STANZA XXVIIL

My soul is occupied,

And all my substance in His service ;
Now I guard no flock,

Nor have I any other employment :
My sole occupation is love.

The soul, or rather the bride, having given herself wholly to
the Bridegroom without any reserve whatever, now recounts
to the Beloved how she fulfils her task. My soul and body
she says, all my abilities and all my capacities, are occupied,
not with other matters, but with those pertaining to the
service of my Beloved. She therefore seeketh not her own
proper satisfaction, nor the gratification of her own inclina-
tions, neither does she occupy herself in anything whatever
which is alien to God; yea, even her communion with God
Himself is nothing else but love, inasmuch as she has changed
her former mode of conversing with Him into love.

‘ My soul is occupied.’ This refers to the soul’s surrender
of itself to the Beloved in this union of love, wherein it con-
secrates itself, with all its faculties, intellect, will, and memory,
to His service. The intellect is occupied in understanding
what tends to His service, in order that it might be accom-
plished; the will, in loving all that is pleasing to God, and
in desiring Him in all things; the memory, in recalling what
ministers to Him, and what may be more pleasing unto Him.

‘And all my substance in His service.’ By substance here
is meant all that relates to the sensitive part of the soul, which

* 8. John xv. 15,

STANZA
XXVIII.

The soul

love.

Intellect,
will, and

memory
unite in
serving

STANZA
XXVIII.

Body and

soul wholly
devoted to

Uv mus
love of the
perfect soul.

152 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

includes the body, with all its powers, interior and exterior,
together with all its natural capacities, that is, the four

passions, the natural desires, and the whole substance of the —

soul, all of which is employed in the service of the Beloved,
as well as the rational and ‘spiritual part, as I explained in
the previous section. As to the body, that is now ordered
according to God in all its interior and exterior senses, all the
acts of which are directed to God; the four passions of the
soul are also under control in Him; for the soul’s rejoicing,
hope, fear, and grief are conversant with God only; all
its appetites, and all its anxieties also, have regard only
unto Him. |

The whole substance of the soul is now so occupied with
God, so intent upon Him, that its very first movements, even
inadvertently, have God for their object and their end. The
intellect, memory, and will tend directly to God ; the affections,
senses, desires, and. longings, hope and joy, the whole sub-
stance of the soul, rise instantly towards God, though the
soul is not making any conscious efforts in that direction.

Such a soul as this doeth continually the work of God, is —

intent upon Him and His works, without thinking or reflect-
ing on what it is doing for Him. The constant and habitual
practice of this has suppressed ail conscious reflection, and
even those acts of fervour also which were present to it in
the beginning of its conversion. The whole substance of
the soul being thus occupied, what follows cannot but be
true also.

‘Now I guard no flock.’ I do not now go after my likings —

and desires, for having now fixed them all upon God, I now
neither feed nor guard them. The soul not only does not
guard them now, but has no other occupation than to wait
upon God.

‘Nor have I any other employment.’ Before the soul suc-

“3%

F odea in effecting this gift 0 and surrender of itself, and of all

Ae its substance, to the Beloved, it was entangled in many
__ unprofitable occupations, by which it sought to serve itself

and others. It may be said of it, that its occupations of this
kind corresponded with its habitual imperfections.
_ These habitual imperfections may have been unprofitable

ae conversations, thoughts, and acts, and the usage of them in

@ manner which did not tend to perfection. There are other

. desires also, serving to the satisfaction of others, such as os-

tentation, compliments, flattering speeches, personal consi-

_ deration, seeking after the appearance of good, pleasing the

world at large, with many other vanities whereby we seek to

_ satisfy the world, wasting herein many anxious thoughts and

acts, and, finally, the very ‘substance of the soul. Such em-
ployment as this the soul has now abandoned, for all its
words, thoughts, and works are directed to God, and conver-
sant with Him, freed from their previous imperfections. It
is as if the soul said: I follow no longer either my own or
other men’s likings, neither do I occupy or entertain myself
with useless pastimes, or the things of this world.

* My sole occupation is love.’ All my occupation now is
the practice of love for God, all the powers of soul and
body, memory, intellect, and will, interior and exterior senses,
the desires of the spiritual and of the sensitive nature, all
work in and by Jove. All I do is done in love; all I suffer, I
suffer in the sweetness of love. This is the meaning of David
when he said: ‘I will keep my strength to Thee.’*

When the soul has arrived at this state all the acts of its
spiritual and sensitive nature, whether active or passive, and
of whatever kind they may be, always occasion an increase
of love and delight in God: even the act of prayer and com-

* Ps. lviii. 10.

STANZA

154 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

munion with God, which was once carried on by reflections
and divers other methods, is now wholly an act of love. So
much so is this the case that the soul may always say,
whether occupied with temporal or spiritual things, ‘My

sole occupation is love.’ Happy life ! happy state! and happy 0

soul which has attained to it! where all is the very substance
of love, the joyous delights of the betrothal, in which it may
address the Beloved as the Bride in the Canticle: ‘The new
and the old, my Beloved, have I kept for Thee.’* All that
is bitter and painful I keep for Thy sake, all that is sweet
and pleasant I keep for Thee. The meaning of the words
is that the soul, in the state of spiritual espousals, is for the
most part living in the union of love, that is, the will is
habitually waiting lovingly on God.

INTRODUCTION.

Or a truth the soul is now lost to all things, and gained only
to love, and the mind is now no longer occupied with any-
thing else. It is, therefore, deficient in what concerns the
active life, and other exterior duties, that it may apply in
earnest only to the one thing which the Bridegroom has
pronounced necessary; f and that is, waiting upon God, and
the continuous practice of His love. So precious is this in
the eyes of God that He rebuked Martha, because she would
withdraw Mary from His feet to occupy her actively in the
service of our Lord. Martha thought that she was doing
everything herself, and that Mary at the feet of Christ was
doing nothing. But it was far otherwise: for there is nothing
more important or more necessary than love. Thus, in the
Canticle, the Bridegroom protects the Bride, adjuring the

* Cant. vii. 13. tT S. Luke x. 42,

Cle) eee

-—s«L OVE -HIGHEST IN IMPORTANCE AND PROFIT. 155

daughters of Jerusalem, that is, all created things, not to

disturb her spiritual sleep of love, nor to waken her, nor to
let her open her eyes to anything till she pleased. ‘ I adjure
you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that you stir not up, nor
awake my beloved till she please.’ *

Observe, however, that if the soul has not reached the

Love for God
the best

state of unitive love, it is necessary for it to make acts of means ot
. . e . - doing good
love, as well in the active as in the contemplative life. But % others

when it has advanced so far, it is not requisite it should
occupy itself in other and exterior duties—unless they be
matters of obligation—which might hinder, were it but for a
moment, the life of love, though they may be most profitable
in themselves; because an instant of pure love is more pre-
cious in the eyes of God and the soul, and more profitable to
the Church than all other good works together, though it
may seem as if nothing were done. Thus, Mary Magdale
though her preaching was most edifying, and might have
been still more so afterwards, out of the great desire she had
to please God and benefit the Church, hid herself in the desert
thirty years, that she might surrender herself entirely to love ;
for she considered that she would gain more in that way,
because an instant of pure love is so much more profitable
and important to the Church.

When the soul has attained in ) any degree to the spirit of
solitary love, we must not interfere with it. We should
inflict a grievous wrong upon it, and upon the Church also,
if we were to occupy it, were it only for a moment, in exterior
or active duties, however important they might be. When
God himself adjures all not to waken it from its love, who
shall venture to do so, and be blameless? And after all, is
it not for this love that we are all created? Let those men
of zeal, who think by their preaching and exterior works, to

&
* Cant. iii. 5.

Tl, Example of

To love God,
the end of our
creation,

156 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

convert the world, consider that they would be much more

—_—— edifying to the Church, and more pleasing unto God—setting

Good works
can only be
done in the
power of
God,

aside the good example they would give —if they would
spend at least one half of their time in quiet prayer, even
though they have not attained to the state of unitive love.
Certainly in that case they would effect greater good, and
with less trouble, by one single good work than by a thousand:
because of the merit of their prayer, and the spiritual strength
it supplies. To act otherwise is to beat the air, to do
little more than nothing, sometimes nothing and occasionally
even mischief; for God may give up such persons to vanity,
so that they may seem to have done something, when in
reality their outward occupations have no fruit at all; for it
is quite certain that good works cannot be done but in the
power of God. O how much might be written on this sub-
ject! this, however, is not the place for it.

I have said this with a view to explain the stanza that
follows, in which the soul replies to those who call in question
its holy tranquillity, who will have it wholly occupied with
outward duties, that its light may shine before the world:-—
these persons have no conception of the fibres and the
unseen root whence the sap is drawn, and which nourish the
fruit.

STANZA XXIX.

If then on the common

I am no longer seen or found,
Say that I am lost ;

That being enamoured,

I lost myself ; and yet I gained.

The soul replies to a tacit objection of the world. The
worldly-minded are in the habit of censuring those who give
themselves up in earnest to God; they look upon them as
extravagant, in their withdrawal from the world, and in
their whole manner of life. They say also of them that they

bs
ee
qs

aa

= 2 = in all important affairs, and lost to all that the sranza

a

aes

world esteems and values. The soul replies to this objec-

: - tion in the most perfect way, setting its face boldly against
Fa sa it and any other which the world might invent. Having

attained to the reality of God’s love it despises all this; it

even admits the censure to be true to its fullest extent, and
boasts of its extravagance, and its abandonment of the
world, and even of itself, for its Beloved. What the soul
# here says, addressing itself to the world, is in substance this:
_ —If you see me no longer occupied with the subjects that
engrossed me once, with the pastimes of the world, say and

believe that I am lost to them, and a stranger to them,

_ yea, that I am lost of my own choice, seeking my Beloved

whom I so greatly love. And that they may see that the
soul’s loss is gain, and not consider it folly and delusion,
it adds, that its loss was gain, an that it therefore lost itself
deliberately.

‘If then on the common I am no longer seen or found.’
The common is a public place where people assemble for
recreation, and where shepherds feed their flocks. By the
common here is meant the world in general, where men
amuse themselves and feed the herd of their desires. The
soul says to the worldly-minded: ‘If you see me no more
where I used to be before I gave myself up wholly to God,
look upon me as lost, andsay so:’ the soul ever rejoices in
that and would have men so speak of it.

‘Say that I am lost.’ He who loves is not ashamed in the

presence of men of what he does for God, neither does he
conceal what he does through a false modesty, though the
whole world should condemn it. He who shall be ashamed
to confess the Son of God before men, neglecting to do His
work, the Son of God also will be ashamed to acknowledge
such an one in the presence of His Father. ‘He that shall

4 _ deny Me before men, I will also deny him before My Father

157

Necessity of
oo

Christ before
men,

158 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

Who is inheaven.’* The soul, therefore, in the spirit of love
glories in what ministers to the honour of the Beloved, in
that it has done anything for Him in being lost to the
things of the world.

But few spiritual persons arrive at this noble courage and
resolution in their conduct. For though some attempt to
practise it, and some even think themselves proficients
therein, still they never entirely lose themselves on certain
points connected with the world or self, so as to be perfectly
detached for the sake of Christ, despising appearances and
the opinion of the world. These can never answer, ‘Say
that I am lost,’ because they are not lost to themselves, and
are still ashamed to confess Christ before men through
human respect ; these do not therefore really live in Christ.

‘That being enamoured,’ that is, practising virtues for the
love of God.

‘I lost myself; and yet I gained.’ The soul remembers
well the words of the Bridegroom in the Gospel: ‘No man
can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and
love the other,’ t and therefore, in order not to lose God,
loses all that is not God, that is, all created things, even
itself, being lost to all things for the love of Him. He who
truly loves makes shipwreck of himself in all else that he
may gain the more in the object of his love. Thus the soul
says that it has lost itself, that is, deliberately, of set

“purpose.

This loss occurs in two ways. The soul loses itself, making
no account whatever of itself, but referring all to the Beloved,
resigning itself freely into His hands without any selfish
views, losing itself deliberately, and seeking nothing for itself.
Secondly, it loses itself in all things, making no account of
anything save that which concerns the Beloved. This is to lose

* S. Matth. x. 33. + Ib, vi, 24,

— a is

ox iat bcd ar rie sy thee
; ; 4 ee ree ee
oA sr di sae oe pes
= rae

r a” J “
— ae as ‘. >

|DISINTERESTED LOVE. 189

oa
at that is, to be willing that others should have all
things. Such is he that loves God ; he seeks neither gain nor
~ reward, but only to lose all, even himself according to God’s
will; this is what such an one counts gain. This is real
___ gain, for the Apostle saith, ‘to die is gain ;”** that is, to die
for Christ is my gain and profit spiritually. This is why the
soul says that it ‘gained;’ for he who knows not how to
| § lose, gains not, but rather loses himself, as our Saviour
yy teaches us in the Gospel, saying, ‘ He that will save his life
shall lose it; and he that shall lose his life for my sake shall
find it.’ f

tion of this line, and its peculiar fitness to the subject
before us, it is as follows :—-When a soul has advanced so far
re on the spiritual road as to be lost to all the natural methods
of communing with God; when it seeks Him no longer by
meditation, images, impressions, nor by any other created
_-_—s Ways, or representations of sense, but only by rising above
q them all, in the joyful communion with Him by faith and
love, then it may be said to have gained God of a truth,
because it has truly lost itself as to all that is not God, and
also as to its own self,

INTRODUCTION.

Tue soul being thus gained, all its works are gain, for all its
powers are exerted in the spiritual intercourse of most sweet
interior love with the Beloved. The interior communications
between God and the soul are now so delicious, so full of
sweetness that no mortal tongue can describe them, nor
human intellect comprehend them. As a bride on the

* Phil. i. 21, + S. Matth, xvi. 25.

But if we wish to enter into the deeper spiritual significa- Goa

160 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

STANZA day of her espousals attends to nothing but to the joyous
— festival of her love, and brings all her jewels and ornaments
for the pleasure of her spouse, and as he too in the same
way exhibits his own magnificence for the pleasure of his
bride, so is it also in the spiritual espousals where the soul
feels that which the Bride says in the Canticle, ‘I to
my Beloved and my Beloved to me.’* The virtues and
graces of the bride-soul, the grandeur and magnificence of
the Bridegroom, the Son of God, come forth into the light,
for the celebration of the nuptial feast, each communicating
to the other their goods and joys with the wine of the sweet
love of the Holy Ghost. The present stanza, addressed to
the Bridegroom by the soul, has this for its subject.

STANZA XXX.

Of emeralds, and of flowers

In the early morning culled,

We will make the garlands,

Flowering in Thy love, *

And bound together with one hair of my head,

The soul all The Bride now turns to the Bridegroom and addresses
Christ Him in the intercourse and comfort of their love. The
aval. subject of this stanza is the solace and delight which the
bride-soul and the Son of God find in the possession of the
virtues and gifts of each other, and in the mutual practice
thereof, both rejoicing in their mutual love. Thus the
soul, addressing the Beloved, says, that they will make
garlands rich in graces and acquired virtues, obtained at the
fitting and convenient season, beautiful and gracious in the
love He bears the soul, and kept together by the love which it
itself has for Him. This rejoicing in virtue is what is meant
by making garlands, for the soul and God rejoice together in

* Cant. vi. 2.

_-———sPIRST- FLOWERS OF SPRING SWEETEST. 161
these virtues bound up as flowers in a garland, in the STANZA
common love which each bears the other.

‘Of emeralds, and of flowers.’ The flowers are the virtues
of the soul; the emeralds are the gifts it has received from
God.

‘In the early morning culled.’ Thatis, acquired in youth, Virtues most
which is the early morning of life. They are said to be Got—when
culled, because the virtues which we acquire in youth are
chosen virtues most pleasing unto God ; because youth is the
season when our vices most resist the acquisition of them,
and when our natural inclinations are most prone to lose
them. Those virtues also are more perfect which we acquire 3, In youth.
in early youth. This time of our life is the early morning ;
for as the freshness of the spring morning is more agreeable
than any other part of the day, so also are the virtues
acquired in our youth more pleasing in the sight of God.

fe may by the fresh morning also understand those acts of 2 By love.

love by which we acquire virtue, and which are more pleasing

unto God than the fresh morning is to the sons of men.

Also good works, wrought in the season of spiritual dryness

and hardness; this is the freshness of the winter morning, 3. In dryness
and what we then do for God in dryness of spirit is most
precious in His eyes. Then it is that we acquire virtues and
graces abundantly; and what we thus acquire with toil and
labour is better, more perfect and durable than what we
acquire in comfort and spiritual sweetness ; for virtue sends
forth its roots in the season of dryness, toil, and trial: as it is
written, ‘ Virtue is made perfect in infirmity.’* It is with
a view to show forth the excellence of these virtues, of which
the garland is wrought for the Beloved, that the soul says of
_ them that they have been culled in the freshness of the
morning; because it is these flowers alone, with the emeralds

* 2 Cor. xii. 9. .
VOL. I. M

Two elements
of virtue ;

1. Grace of
God.

2, Act of
man,

ie ae

162 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

ae i

:

of virtue, the choice and perfect graces, and not the im- —

perfect, which are pleasing to the Beloved.

‘We will make the garlands.’ All the virtues and graces
which the soul, and God in it, acquire, are as a garland of
divers flowers, wherewith the soul is marvellously adorned,
as with a vesture of rich embroidery. As material flowers
are gathered, and then formed into a garland, so the spiritual
flowers of virtues and graces are acquired and set in order in
the soul; and when the acquisition is complete, the garland
of perfection is complete also. The soul and the Bridegroom
rejoice in it, both beautiful, adorned with the garland, as in
the state of perfection.

These are the garlands which the soul says ro thier will make.
That is, it will wreathe itself with this variety of flowers, with
the emeralds of virtues and perfect gifts, that it may present
itself worthily before the face of the King, and be on an
equality with Him, sitting as a queen on His right hand; for
it has merited this exaltation by its beauty. Thus David
saith, addressing himself to Christ: ‘The queen stood on
Thy right hand in gilded clothing, surrounded with variety.’*
That is, at His right hand, clothed in perfect love, surrounded
with the variety of graces and perfect virtues. The soul does

not say, I will make garlands, nor, Thou wilt make them, —

but, We will make them, not separately, but both together; — j

because the soul cannot practise virtues alone, nor acquire
them alone, without the help of God; neither does God
alone, on the other hand, create virtue in the soul, without
the soul’s concurrence. Though it be true, as the Apostle
saith, that ‘every best gift, and every perfect gift, is from
above, coming down from the Father of light,’ still they
enter into no soul without that soul’s concurrence and con-
sent. Thus the Bride saith to the Spouse: ‘ Draw me; we

* Ps. xliy. 10, + S. James i. 17,

will run after thee.’* Every inclination to good comes from stanza
S _ God alone, as we learn here; but as to running, that is, good [-~
3 a works, they proceed from God and the soul together, and it goss before,

soul is by itself a garland adorned with the flowers of virtues *
_ and graces, and all of them together a garland for the
head of Christ the Bridegroom. We may also understand by

HIS SAINTS THE CROWN OF CHRIST. 163

is therefore written, ‘ We will run,’ that is, both together, but win.

- not God or the soul alone.

These words may also be fittingly applied to Christ and
His Church, which, as His Bride, says unto Him, We will make

, _ the garlands. In this application of the words, the garlands Chet = os

are the holy souls born to Christ in the Church. Every such crown of His

these beautiful garlands the crowns formed by Christ and the
Church, of which there are three kinds. The first is formed 1. White of
of the beauty and white flowers of the Virgins, each one with
her Virginal crown, and all together forming one for their
Bridegroom Christ. The second, of the brilliant flowers of 2, Luminous

_ the holy Doctors, each with his crown of doctor, and all

together forming one above that of the virgins on the head
of Christ. The third is composed of the purple flowers of 3. Purpie of
the Martyrs, each with his own crown of martyrdom, and all meet
united into one for the final coronet on the head of Christ.
Adorned with these garlands He will be so beautiful, and so
lovely to behold, that Heaven itself will repeat the words of
the Bride in the Canticle, saying: ‘Go forth, ye daughters of
Sion, and see king Solomon in the diadem wherewith his
mother crowned him in the day of his espousals, and in the
day of the joy of his heart.’+ These are the garlands of
which the soul says :

‘Flowering in Thy love.’ The flowering of good works and
virtues is the grace and power which they derive from the
love of God, without which they not only flower not, but

* Cant. i, 3, + Cant, iii, 11.

God must be

* loved with

singleness of
heart.

Leviathan a

164 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

become even dry, and worthless in the eyes of God, though
they may be humanly perfect. But if He gives His grace
and love, they flourish in His love.

* And bound together with one hair of my head.’ The hair
here is the will of the soul, and the love it bears the Beloved.
This love performs the function of the thread that keeps the
garland together. For as a thread binds the flowers of a gar-
land, so love knits together and sustains virtues in the soul.
‘ Charity,’ that is, love, saith the Apostle, ‘is the bond of per-
fection.’* Love binds the virtues and supernatural gifts
together, so that if love fails by our departure from God, all
our virtue perishes also, just as the flowers drop from the
garland, when the thread that bound them together is broken.
It is not enough for God’s gift of virtues, that He should love
us, but we too must love Him in order to receive them, and
preserve them.

The soul speaks of one hair, not of many, to show that the
will by itself is fixed on God, detached from all other hairs;
that is, from strange love. This points out the great price
and worth of the garlands of virtues; for when love is
single, firmly fixed on God, such as it is here described, the
virtues also are entire, perfect, and flowering in the love of
God; for the love He bears the soul is beyond all price, and
the soul also knows it well.

Were I to attempt a description of the beauty of that binding
of the flowers and emeralds together, or of the strength and
majesty which their harmonious arrangement furnishes to the
soul, or the beauty and grace of its embroidered vesture, ex-
pressions and words would fail me ; for if God says of the evil
spirit, ‘His body is like molten shields, shut close up with
scales, pressing upon one another; one is joined to another,
and not so much as any air can come between them ;’f if the

* Coloss, iii, 14. + Job xli. 6, 7.

*,

wa

SE

a

i

Ss BEAUTY AND STRENGTH OF THE PERFECT SOUL. 165

fa evil spirit be so strong, because covered with malice thus

___-_—s compacted together—for the scales that cover his body, like

molten shields, are malice, and malice is in itself but weak-
ness—what must be the strength of the soul that is clothed
in virtues so compacted and united together that no impurity
nor imperfection can penetrate between them; each virtue
severally adding strength to strength, beauty to beauty,
wealth to wealth, and to majesty dominion and grandeur?
What a marvellous vision will be that of the Bride-soul,
when it shall sit on the right hand of the Bridegroom-King,
crowned with graces! ‘ How beautiful are thy steps in shoes,
O prince’s daughter!’* The soul is called a prince’s daughter
because of the power it receives; and if the beauty of the steps
in shoes be great, what must be that of the whole vesture ? Not
only is the beauty of the soul crowned with admirable flowers,
but its strength also, flowing from the harmonious order of the
flowers, intertwined with the emeralds of its innumerable
graces, is terrible : ‘Terrible as an army set in array.’f For,
as these virtues and gifts of God refresh the soul with their
spiritual perfume, so also, when united in it, do they, out of
their substance, minister strength. Thus, in the Canticle,
when the Bride was weak, languishing with love—because she
had not been able to bind together the flowers and the emeralds
with the hair of her love—and anxious to strengthen herself
by that union of them, cries out: ‘Stay me with flowers,
compass me about with apples; because I languish with love.’t
The flowers are the virtues, and the apples are the other

graces.
* Cant. vii. 1. + Ib. vi. 3. t Tb. ii. 5.

David and
Jonathan.

166 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE. —

INTRODUCTION.

I petreve I have now shown how the intertwining of the
garlands, and their lasting presence in the soul, explains the
Divine union of love which now exists between the soul and
God. The Bridegroom, as He saith Himself, is ‘the flower
of the field and the lily of the valleys,’ * and the soul’s love
is the hair that unites to itself this flower of flowers. Love
is the most precious of all things, because it is the ‘bond of
perfection,’ and perfection is union with God. The soul is,
as it were, a sheaf of garlands, seeing that it is the subject
of glory, no longer what it was before, but the very perfect
flower of flowers in perfection, and the beauty of them all ;
for the thread of love binds so closely God and the soul,
and so unites them that it transforms them and makes them
one by love; so that, though in essence different, yet in glory
the soul seems God and God the soul. Such is this mar-
vellous union, which baffles all description. |

We may form some conception of it from the love of David
and Jonathan, whose ‘soul was knit with the soul of David.’ f
If the love of one man for another can be thus strong, so as
to knit two souls together, what must that love of God be
which can knit the soul of man to God the Bridegroom? God
Himself is here the Suitor Who in the omnipotence of
His unfathomable love absorbs the soul with greater violence
and efficacy than a torrent of fire the morning dew which re-
solves itself into air. The hair, therefore, which accomplishes
such a union must, of necessity, be most strong and subtile,
seeing that it penetrates and binds together so effectually
the soul and God. In the present stanza the soul declares
the qualities of this hair.

* Cant. ii. 1. + 1 Kings xviii. 1.

167

STANZA XXXII.

By that one hair
Thou hast observed fluttering on my neck,

And wounded by one of my eyes.

There are three things mentioned here. The first is, that
the love, by which the virtues are bound together, is nothing
less than a strong love; for in truth it need be so, in order
to preserve them. The second is, that God is greatly taken
by this hair of love, seeing it to be alone and strong. The
third is, that God is deeply enamoured of the soul, beholding
the purity and integrity of its faith.

‘ By that one hair Thou hast, observed fluttering on my neck.’
The neck signifies that strength in which, it is said, fluttered
the hair of love, strong love, which bound the virtues
together. It is not sufficient for the preservation of virtues
that love be alone, it must be also strong, so that no contrary
vice may anywhere destroy the perfection of the garland;
for the virtues are so bound up together in the soul by the
hair, that if the thread be once broken, all the virtues are lost;
for where one virtue is, all are, and where one fails, all fail
also. The hair is said to flutter on the neck, because its love
of God, without any impediment whatever, flutters strongly
and lightly in the strength of the soul. As the air causes
the hair to wave and flutter on the neck, so the breath of
the Holy Ghost stirs the strong love that it may fly upwards
unto God; for without this Divine wind, which excites the
powers of the soul to the practice of Divine love, all the
virtues the soul may possess become ineffectual and fruitless,
The Beloved observed the hair fluttering on the neck, that
is, He considered it with particular attention and regard;
because strong love is a great attraction for the eyes of God.

Mutual
of virtues,

STANZA

Goda
love,

168 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

‘ And hast regarded on my neck.’ This shews us that God
not only esteems this love, seeing it alone, but also loves it,
seeing it strong ; for to say that God regards is to say that He
loves, and to say that He observes is to say that He esteems
what He observes. The word neck is repeated in this line,
because it—that is, the strength of the soul—is the cause
why God loves it so much. It is as if the soul said, Thou
hast loved it, seeing it strong without weakness or fear,
and without any other love, and flying upwards swiftly and
fervently.

Until now God had not looked upon this hair, so as to be
captivated by it, because He had not seen it alone, separate
from the others, withdrawn from other loves, feelings, and
affections, which hindered it from fluttering alone on the neck
of strength. Afterwards, however, when mortifications and
trials, temptations and penance had detached it, and made it
strong, so that nothing whatever could break it, then God
beholds it, and is taken by it, and binds the flowers of the
garlands with it; for it is now so strong that it can keep the
virtues united together in the soul. I have already de-
scribed, in the treatise of the Obscure Night, what these
temptations and trials are, how deeply they affect the soul,
and strengthen it so that it shall attain to this strength of
love in which God unites Himself with it. I shall also say
something on the same subject when I explain the four
stanzas which begin with the words, ‘ O living flame of love!’
The soul having passed through these trials, acquires such a
degree of love that it merits the Divine union.

‘Thou wert captivated.” O joyful wonder! God cap-
tive to a hair. The reason of this capture so precious is
that God was pleased to observe the fluttering of the hair on
the soul’s neck; for where God regards He loves. If He in
His grace and mercy had not first looked upon us and loved

POWER OF TRUST IN GOD. 169

"us, as S. John saith, and humbled Himself to our vile-
a ness, He never would have been taken by the fluttering of
the hair of our miserable love. His flight is not so low as

that our love could lay hold of the Divine Bird, attract His
attention, and fly so high with a strength worthy of His
regard, if He had not first looked upon us. He, however, is
taken by the fluttering of the hair, He makes it worthy and
pleasing to Himself, and then is captivated by it. ‘Thou
hast seen it on my neck, Thou wert captivated by it.’ This
renders it credible that a bird which flies low may cap-
ture the royal eagle in its flight; if the eagle should fly so
low and be taken by it willingly.

* And wounded by one of my eyes.’ The eye is faith.
The soul speaks of but one, and that this has wounded the
Beloved. If the faith and trust of the soul in God were not
one, without admixture of other considerations, God never
could have been wounded by love. Thus the eye that wounds,
and the hair that binds, must be one. So strong is that love
which the Bride inspires in the Bridegroom by her simple
trust, that, if the hair of her love binds Him, the eye of her
faith imprisons Him so closely asto wound Him through that
most tender affection He bears her, which is to the Bride a
further progress in His love.

The Bridegroom himself speaks of the hair and the eyes ;
saying to the Bride, ‘Thou hast wounded my heart, my sister,
my spouse, thou hast wounded my heart with one of thy
eyes, and with one hair of thy neck.’t He says twice that
His heart is wounded with the eye and the hair, and there-
fore the soul in this stanza speaks of them both; because
they signify its union with God in the intellect and the will ;
for the intellect is subdued by faith, signified by the eye,
and the will by love. Here the soul exults in this union, and

* 18. John iy, 10. + Cant. iv. 9.

Confidence in
God,—its
effects,

STANZA
XXXII,

Unselfish
true love.

170 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

gives thanks to the Bridegroom for it, as it is His gift;
accounting it a great matter that He has been pleased to
requite its love, and to become captive to it. We may also
observe here the joy, happiness, and delight of the soul with
its prisoner, it having been for a long time enamoured
of Him.

INTRODUCTION.

GreaT is the power and courage of love, for God is its pri-
soner. Blessed is the soul that loves, for it has made a
captive of God who obeys its good pleasure. Such is the
nature of love, that it makes those under its influence do
what is required of them, and, on the other hand, if love be
wanting, no influence can be exercised even after many
caresses. One hair will bind those that love. The soul,
knowing this well, and conscious of blessings beyond its
merits, in being raised up to so high a degree of love,
through the rich endowments of graces and virtues, attributes
all to the Beloved, saying:

STANZA XXXII.

When Thou didst regard me,

Thine eyes imprinted Thy grace in me:
For this didst Thou love me again,
And thereby mine eyes did merit

To adore what in Thee they saw,

It is the nature of perfect love to seek or accept nothing
for itself, nor to attribute anything to itself, but to refer all
to the beloved. If this be true of earthly love, how much
more so of love for God, the reason of which is so con-
straining. In the previous stanzas it appeared as if the Bride
attributed something to herself; she said that she would make
garlands with her Beloved, and bind them with a hair of her

en el
3a a ae
+ 2 a Fad

i eee er we a

GRACE THE CAUSE OF MERIT. 171

) a © weed; that is a great work, and of no slight importance and

value ; afterwards she said that she exulted in having capti-

vated Him by a hair, and wounded Him with one of her

eyes. All this seems as if she attributed great merits to
herself. Now, however, she explains her meaning, and re-
moves the error which might have occurred, with great care
and fear, lest any merit should be attributed to herself, and
less to God than His due, and less also than she intended.
’ She now refers all to Him, and at the same time gives Him
thanks, saying, that the cause of His being the captive of the
hair of her love, and of His being wounded by the eye of
her faith, was His mercy in looking lovingly upon her,
thereby rendering her lovely and pleasing in His sight;
and that the loveliness and worth she received from Him
merited His love, and made her worthy to adore her Beloved,
and to bring forth good works worthy of His love and favour.

* When Thou didst regard me.’ That is, with loving affec-
tion, for I have already said, that where God regards there
He loves.

‘Thine eyes imprinted Thy grace in me.’ The eyes of
the Bridegroom signify here His merciful Divinity, which
mercifully inclined to the soul, imprints or infuses in it the
love and grace by which He makes it beautiful, and elevates
it to be the partaker of His Divinity. When the soul sees
to what height of dignity God has raised it, it says—

‘For this didst Thou love me again.’» To love again
is to love much ; it is more than simple love, it is a twofold
love, and on two grounds. Here the soul explains the two
motives of the Bridegroom’s love; He not only loved it
because captivated by the hair, but He loved it again,
because He was wounded with one of its eyes. He loved it
so profoundly, because He would, when He looked upon it,
give it grace to please Him, endowing it with the hair of
love, and animating with charity the faith of the eye. And

STANZA

God the
Supreme
Good loves,
1, Himself.
2. All things
as related to
Himself,

172 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

therefore saith the soul: ‘ For this didst Thou love me again.
To say that God shews favour to the soul is to say that He
renders it worthy and capable of His love. It is therefore
as if the soul said, Having shewn Thy favour to me, worthy
pledges of Thy love, Thou hast therefore loved me again:
that is, Thou hast given me grace upon grace; or, in the
words of S. John, ‘grace for grace;’* grace for the grace
He has given, that is, more grace, for without grace we cannot
merit His grace.

If we would clearly understand this truth, we must keep -

in mind that, as God loves nothing beside Himself, so loves
He nothing more than Himself, because He loves all things
with reference to Himself. Thus love is the final cause, and

God loves nothing for what it is in itself. Consequently, |

when we say that God loves such a soul, we say, in effect,
that He brings it in a manner to Himself, making it His
equal, and thus it is He loves that soul in Himself with that
very love with which He loves Himself. Every good work,
therefore, of the soul in God is meritorious of God’s love,

because the soul in His favour thus exalted, merits God —

Himself in every act.

‘ And thereby mine eyes did merit.’ That is, by the grace
and favour which the eyes of Thy compassion have wrought,
when Thou didst look upon me, rendering me pleasing in
Thy sight and worthy of Thy regard.

‘ To adore what in Thee they saw.’ Thatis: The powers
of my soul, O my Spouse, the eyes by which I can see Thee,
although once fallen and miserable in the vileness of their
mean occupations, have merited to look upon Thee. To
look upon God is to do good works in His grace. Thus also
the powers of the soul merit in adoring because they adore
in the grace of God, in which every act is meritorious.

* S. John i, 16,

THE ADORING EYES OF LOVE. 173

ig x " Enlightened and exalted by grace, they adored what in Him
___ they saw, and what they saw not before, because of their blind-
ness and meanness. What then have they now seen? The
greatness of His power, His overflowing sweetness, infinite
goodness, love, and compassion, innumerable benefits re-
ceived at His hands, as well now when so near Him, as
before when far away. The eyes of the soul now merit to
adore, and by adoring merit, for they are beautiful and
_ pleasing to the Bridegroom. Before they were unworthy,
- not only to adore or behold Him, but even to look upon
Him at all: great indeed is the stupidity and blindness of a
soul without the grace of God.

It is a melancholy thing to see how far a soul departs from
its duty when it is not enlightened by the love of God. For
being bound to acknowledge these and other innumerable
favours which it has every moment received at His hands,
temporal as well as spiritual, and to worship and serve Him
unceasingly with all its faculties, it not only does not do so,
but is also rendered unworthy even to think of Him; nor does
it make any account of Him whatever. Such is the misery
of those who are living, or rather who are dead, in sin.

INTRODUCTION.

For the better understanding of this and of what follows, we
must keep in mind that the regard of God benefits the soul
in four ways: it cleanses, adorns, enriches, and enlightens it
—as the sun when it shines, dries, warms, beautifies, and
brightens the earth. When God has visited the soul in the
three latter ways, whereby He renders it pleasing to Himself,
He remembers its former uncleanness and sin no more: as
it is written, ‘I will not remember all his iniquitics that he

E
B
ee

174 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

hath done.’* God having once done away with our sin and
uncleanness, He will look upon them no more; nor will He
withhold His mercy because of them, for He never punishes
twice for the same sin, according to the words of the
Prophet: ‘ There shall not rise a double affliction.’ t

Still, though God forgets the sin He has once forgiven,
we are not for that reason to forget it ourselves; for the
Wise Man saith, ‘ Be not without fear about sin forgiven.’ t
There are three reasons for this. We should always re-
member our sin, that we may not presume, that we may have
a subject of perpetual thanksgiving, and that it may give us
confidence in God that we shall receive greater favours; for
if, when we were in sin, God showed Himself unto us so
merciful and forgiving, how much greater mercies may we —
not hope for when we are clean from sin, and in His love ?

The soul, therefore, calling to mind all the mercies it has
received, and seeing itself united to the Bridegroom in such
dignity, rejoices greatly with joy, thanksgiving, and love.
In this it is helped exceedingly by the recollection of its
former condition, which was so mean and filthy that it not
only did not deserve that God should look upon it, but was
unworthy that He should even utter its name, as He saith
by the mouth of the prophet David: ‘ Nor will I be mindful
of their names by My lips.’§ Thus the soul seeing that there
was, and that there can be, nothing in itself to attract the
eyes of God, but that all comes from Him of pure grace and
good-will, attributes its misery to itself, and all the blessings
it enjoys to the Beloved; and seeing further, that because of
these blessings it can merit now what it could not merit before,
it becomes bold with God, and prays for the continuance of the
Divine spiritual union, wherein its mercies are visibly mul-
tiplied. This is the subject of the following stanza.

* Ezech. xviii. 22, + Nahum i. 9,
t Ecclus. v. 5. § Ps, xy. 4,

THE SOUL’S BEAUTY GOD’S GIFT. 175

STANZA XXXII.
Despise me not,
For if I was swarthy once,
Thou canst regard me now ;
Since Thou hast regarded me,
Grace and beauty hast Thou given me.

The soul now is becoming bold, and sets value upon itself,
because of the gifts and endowments which the Beloved has
bestowed upon it. It recognises that these things, while
itself is worthless and undeserving, are at least means of
merit for it, and consequently it ventures to say to the
Beloved: ‘Do not disregard me now, or despise me;’ for if
before it deserved contempt because of the filthiness of its sin
and the meanness of its nature, now that He has once looked
upon it, and thereby adorned it with grace and beauty, He
may well look upon it a second time and increase its grace
and beauty. That He has once done so, when the soul
deserved it not, and had no attractions for Him, is reason
enough why He should do so again and again.

‘Despise me not.’ The soul does not say this, because it
desires in any way to be esteemed—for contempt and insult
are of great price, and occasions of joy to the soul that truly
loves God—but because it acknowledges that in itself it
merits nothing else, were it not for the gifts and graces
it has received from God, as it appears from the words that
follow.

‘For if I was swarthy once.’ If, before Thou didst gra-

ciously look upon me, Thou didst find me in my filthiness,

black with imperfections and sins, and naturally mean and vile,

‘Thou canst regard me now; since Thou hast regarded
me.’ After once looking upon me, and taking away my
swarthy complexion, defiled by sin and disagreeable to look

_ upon, when Thou didst render me lovely for the first time,

Thou mayest well look upon me now ;—that is, now I may

176 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

STANZA be looked on and deserve to be regarded, and thereby to
— receive further favours at Thy hands. For Thine eyes, when
they first looked upon me, did not only take away my swarthy
complexion, but rendered me also worthy of Thy regard; for
when Thou hadst looked upon me in love Thou didst make *3
me beautiful and lovely.

The more ‘ Grace and beauty hast Thou given me.’ The two preced-

ri a soul
isendowed ing lines are a commentary on the words of §. John, ‘ grace for

pore dary grace,’ * for when God beholds a soul that is lovely in His
ars eyes, He is moved to bestow more grace upon it because He
dwells, pleased, within it. Moses knew this, and prayed for
further grace: he would, as it were, constrain God to grant
it, because he had already received so much. ‘Thou hast said :
I know thee by name, and thou hast found favour in My sight:
if therefore I have found favour in Thy sight, shew me
Thy face, that Imay know Thee, and may find grace before
Thy eyes.’ f Nowa soul which in the eyes of God is thus
exalted in grace, honourable and lovely, is for that reason an .
object of His unutterable love. If He loved that soul before
it was in a state of grace, for His own sake, He loves it now,
when in a state of grace, not only for His own sake, but also
for itself. Thus enamoured of its beauty, through its affec- )

tions and good works, now that it is never without them, He
bestows upon it continually further grace and love, and the
more honourable and exalted He renders that soul, the more
is He captivated by it, and the greater His love for it.

God Himself sets this truth before us, saying to His people, ,
by the mouth of the Prophet, ‘Since thou becamest honour- — ¢
able in My eyes, and glorious, I have loved thee.’ That is, 74
since I have cast Mine eyes upon thee, and thereby shewed
thee favour, and made thee glorious and honourable in My ‘ ;
sight, thou hast merited other and further favours; for to 5

* 8. John i, 16. t Exod, xxxiii, 12, 13, t Is, xliii, 4,

— el a

GOD HONOURS HIS OWN WORK. 177

e* _ say that God loves, is to say that He multiplies His grace.

The Bride in the Canticle speaks to the same effect, saying :
*I am black but beautiful, O ye daughters of Jerusalem,’ *
and the Church adds, saying: ‘Therefore hath the King
loved me, and brought me into His secret chamber.’ This
is as much as saying: O ye souls who have no knowledge
nor understanding of these favours, marvel not that the hea-
venly King has shown such mercy unto me as .to bring me
within the sphere of His interior love, for, though I am
swarthy, He has so regarded me, after once looking upon me,
that He could not be satisfied without betrothing me to
Himself, and inviting me into the inner chamber of His love.

Who can measure the greatness of the soul’s exaltation
when God is pleased with it? No language, no imagination
is sufficient for this; for in truth God doeth this as God,
to show that it is He who does it. The dealings of God
with such a soul may in some degree be understood; but
only in this way, namely, that He gives more to him who has
more, and that His gifts are multiplied in proportion to the
previous endowments of the soul. This is what He teaches
us Himself in the Gospel, saying: ‘He that hath, to him
shall be given, and he shall abound: but he that hath not,
from him shall be taken away that also which he hath.’ f¢
Thus the talent of that servant who was not in favour with
his lord was taken from him and given to another who had
gained others, so that the latter might have all, together with
the favour of his lord.{ God heaps the noblest and the
chiefest favours of His house, which is the Church militant
as well as the Church triumphant, upon him who is most His
friend, ordaining it thus for his greater honour and glory, as
a great light absorbs the lesser lights in itself. This is the
spiritual sense of those words the prophet Isaias addressed

* Cant. i. 4. + Matth, xiii, 12. t Ib. xxv, 28.
VOL, I. N

STANZA

God will not
be outdone in
generosity.

STANZA

Mutual love
of God and
thesoul. .

God exalts
the humble,

178 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

to the people of Israel: ‘I am the Lord thy God, the Holy
One of Israel, thy Saviour: I have given Egypt for thy atone-
ment and Saba for thee. I will give men for thee, and people
for thy life.’ *

Well mayest Thou then, O God, gaze upon and esteem
that soul which Thou regardest, for Thou hast made it
precious by looking upon it, and given it graces which Thou
valuest, and by which Thou art captivated. That soul, there-
fore, deserves that Thou shouldest regard it not once only
but often, seeing that Thou hast once looked upon it; for so
is it written by the Holy Ghost: ‘ This honour is he worthy
of, whom the king hath a mind to honour,’ f

INTRODUCTION.

Tue gifts of the Bridegroom to the soul in this state are
inestimable ; the praises and endearing expressions of Divine
love which pass so frequently between them are beyond all
utterance. The soul is occupied in praising Him, and in
giving Him thanks; and He too in exalting, praising, and
thanking the soul, as we see” in the Canticle, where He thus
speaks to the Bride: ‘ Behold, thou art fair, O My love,
behold, thou art fair; thy eyes are as those of doves.’ The
Bride replies: ‘ Behold, Thou art fair, my Beloved, and
comely.’{ These, and other like expressions, are addressed
by them each to the other. In the previous stanza the soul

despised itself, and said it was swarthy and unclean, praising

Him for His beauty and grace, and Who, by looking upon the
soul, rendered it gracious and beautiful. He, whose way
it is to exalt the humble, fixing His eyes upon the soul, as He
was entreated to do, praises it in the following stanza. He
does not call it swarthy, as the soul calls itself, but He ad-

* Is, xliii. 3, 4. + Esth, vi. 11. t Cant. iv. 1, vi. 3.

ae Te

=P) EVER-GREEN OLIVE BRANCH OF PEACE. 179

dresses it as His white dove, praising it for its good dispo-
: [> sitions, those of a dove, and a turtle-dove.

STANZA XXXIV.
THE BRIDEGROOM.
The little white dove
Has returned to the ark with the bough ;
And now the turtle-dove
Her desired mate
| On the green banks has found.

It is the Bridegroom Himself who now speaks. He cele-
brates the purity of the soul in its present state, the rich
rewards it has gained, in having prepared itself, and laboured,
for Him. He also speaks of its blessedness in having found
the Bridegroom in this union, and of the fulfilment of all
its desires, the delight and joy it finds in Him now that all
the trials of life and time are over.

‘The little white dove’ is the soul, so called on account of its
whiteness and purity—effects of the grace it has received at
the hands of God, He calls it a dove, for this is the term He
applies to it in the Canticle, to mark its simplicity, its natural
gentleness, and its loving contemplation. The dove is not
only simple, and gentle without gall, but its eyes are also
clear, full of love. The Bridegroom, therefore, to point out
in it this character of loving contemplation, wherein it
looks upon God, says of it that its es are those of a dove:
*Thy eyes are doves’ eyes.’ *

‘Has returned to the ark with the bough.’ Here the
Bridegroom compares the soul to the dove of Noe’s ark, the
going and returning of which is a figure of what befalls the
soul. For as the dove went forth from the ark, and returned
because she found no rest for her feet on account of the waters
of the deluge, until the time when she returned with the
olive branch in her mouth—a sign of the mercy of God in

* Cant. iv. 1.
n2

= = eer ll

STANZA
XXXIV.

Reconquest
of innocence.

The soul
compared to
aturtle-dove,
in five ways.

180 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE,

drying up the waters which had covered the earth—so the
soul went forth at its creation out of the ark of God’s omni-
potence, and having traversed the deluge of its sins and
imperfections, and finding no rest for its desires, flew and
returned on the air of the longings of its love to the ark of its
Creator’s bosom; but it only effected an entrance when God
had dried up the overwhelming waters of its imperfections.
Then it returned with the olive branch, that is, the victory
over all things by His merciful compassion, to this blessed
and perfect recollection in the bosom of the Beloved, not only
triumphant over all its enemies, but also rewarded for its
merits ; for both the one and the other are symbolised by the
olive bough. Thus the dove-soul returns to the ark of God
not only white and pure as it went forth when He created it,
but with the olive branch of reward and peace obtained by
the conquest of itself.

‘And now the turtle-dove her desired mate on the green
banks has found.’ The Bridegroom calls the soul the turtle-
dove, because when it is seeking after the Beloved it is
like the turtle-dove when she cannot find her desired mate.
It is said of the turtle-dove, when she cannot find her mate,
that she sitteth not on the green boughs, nor drinketh of the
cool refreshing waters, nor retireth to the shade, nor min-
gleth with companions; but when she finds him, then she
doeth all this. Such, too, is the condition of the soul, and
that necessarily, if it is to attain to union with the Bride-

groom. The soul’s love-and anxiety must be such that it.

cannot rest on the green boughs of any joy, nor drink of
the waters of this world’s honour and glory, nor recreate
itself with any temporal consolation, nor shelter itself
beneath the shade of created help and protection: it must
repose nowhere, it must avoid the society of all its incli-
nations, mourn in its loneliness, until it shall find the Bride-
groom to its perfect contentment.

i ee

a

ee Ss ——— CCUL

And because the soul, before it attained to this estate,
sought the Beloved in great love, and was satisfied with
nothing short of Him, the Bridegroom here speaks of the end
of its labours, and the fulfilment of its desires, saying:
‘ Now the turtle-dove her desired mate on the green banks
has found.’ That is: Now the Bride-soul sits on the green
bough, rejoicing in her Beloved; drinks of the clear waters of
highest contemplation and of the wisdom of God ; is refreshed
by the consolations it finds in God, and is also sheltered under
the shadow of His favour and protection, which she had so
earnestly desired. There is she deliciously and divinely com-
forted and nourished, as she saith in the Canticle: ‘I sat
down under His shadow Whom I desired, and His fruit was
sweet to my palate.’ *

INTRODUCTION.

Tue Bridegroom proceeds to speak of the satisfaction which
He derives from the happiness which the Bride has found in
that solitude wherein she desired to live—a stable peace and
unchangeable good. For when the Bride is confirmed in the
tranquillity of her sole and solitary love of the Bridegroom,
she reposes so sweetly in the love of God, and God also in
her, that she requires no other means or masters to guide
her in the way of God; for God Himself is now her light and
guide, fulfilling in her what He promised by the mouth of the
Prophet, saying: ‘I will lead her into the wilderness, and I
will speak to her heart.’t The meaning of this is, that it is
in solitude that He communicates Himself, and unites Him-
self, to the soul, for to speak to the heart is to satisfy the
heart, and no heart can be satisfied with less than God.

* Cant, ii. 3, t Os, ii. 14,

THE TWO DOVES. 181.

STANZA
XXXV.

Solitude of
the soul in
search of
God.

182 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE,

STANZA XXXYV.

In solitude she lived,

And in solitude hath she built her nest ;
And in solitude, alone

Hath the Beloved guided her,

In solitude also wounded with her love.

Two things are to be noticed here. In the first place, the
Bridegroom commends the solitude in which the soul de-
sired to live, for it was the means whereby the soul found the
Beloved, and rejoiced in Him, away from all its former anxie-
ties and troubles. For, as the soul was willing to abide in
solitude, abandoning all created help and consolation, in
order to obtain the fellowship and union of the Beloved, it
deserved thereby possession of the peace of solitude in the Be-
loved, in Whom it reposes alone, undisturbed by any anxieties.

In the second place. The Bridegroom saith that, inasmuch
as the soul has desired to be alone, far away, for His sake,
from all created things, He has been enamoured of it because
of its loneliness, has taken care of it, embraced it with His
arms, fed it with all good things, and guided it to the high
things of God. He does not merely say, that He is now the
soul’s guide, but that He is its only guide, without any inter-
mediate help, either of angels or of men, either of forms or of
figures ; for the soul in this solitude has attained to true liberty

of spirit, and is wholly detached from all subordinate means. .

‘In solitude she lived.’ The turtle-dove, that is, the soul,
lived in solitude before she found the Beloved in this state
of union; for the soul that longs after God derives no conso-
lation from any other companionship,—yea, until it finds
Him, all such does but increase its solitude.

‘ And in solitude hath she built her nest.’ The previous
solitude of the soul was its voluntary self-privation of all the
comforts of this world, for the sake of the Bridegroom—as in

i lin: ta
= =

THE DOVE’S NEST. 183

the instance of the turtle-dove—its striving after perfection,
and acquiring that perfect solitude wherein it attains to union
with the Word, and in consequence to complete refreshment
and repose. This is what is meant by ‘nest;’ and the words
of the stanza may be thus explained: ‘In that solitude,
wherein the Bride formerly lived, tried by afflictions and
troubles, because she was not yet perfect—there, in that
solitude, hath she now fixed her nest, because she has found
perfect rest in God.’ This, too, is the spiritual sense of these
words of the Psalmist: ‘The sparrow hath found herself a
house, and the turtle a nest for herself, where she may lay
her young ones;’* that is, a sure stay in God, in Whom all
the desires and powers of the soul are satisfied.’

‘And in solitude.’ In that solitude of the soul, its
perfect detachment from all things, wherein it lives alone
with God—there He guides it, moves it, and elevates it to
Divine things. He guides the intellect in the perception of
Divine things, because it is now detached from all contrary
knowledge, and alone. He moves the will freely to love
Himself, because it is now alone, disencumbered from all
other affections. He fills the memory with Divine knowledge,
because it also is now alone, eraptied of all imaginations and
fancies. For the instant the soul clears and empties its facul-
ties of all earthly objects, and from attachments to higher
things, keeping them in solitude, God immediately fills them
with the invisible and Divine; it being God Himself Who
guides it in this solitude. §S. Paul says of the perfect, that
they ‘are led by the Spirit of God,’ and that is the same as
saying: ‘In solitude hath He guided her.’

* Alone hath the Beloved guided her.’ That is, the Beloved
not only guides the soul in its solitude, but it is He alone
Who works in it directly without medium. It is of the nature

* Ps, lxxxiii, 4.

STANZA
XXXV.

God, the
companion
of the soul’s
solitude.

oS A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

of the soul’s union with God in spiritual matrimony, that God
works directly, and communicates Himself immediately, not
by the ministry of angels, or by the help of natural capaci-
ties. For the exterior and interior senses, all created things,
and even the soul itself, contribute little towards the recep-
tion of those great supernatural favours which God bestows
in this state; yea, rather, inasmuch as they do not fall within
the cognizance of natural efforts, ability and application, God
alone effects them. The reason is, that He finds the soul
alone in its solitude, and therefore will not give it another
companion, nor will He entrust His work to any other than
Himself. There is also a certain fitness in this; for the soul
having abandoned all things, and passed through all the
ordinary means, rising above them unto God; God Himself
becomes the guide, and the means of bringing it to Himself.
The soul in solitude, detached. from all things, having now
ascended above all things, nothing now can profit or serve it
except the Bridegroom Word Himself, Who, because ena-
moured of the Bride, will Himself alone bestow these graces
on the soul.

‘In solitude also wounded with her love.’ That is, the
love of the Bride for Him ; for the Bridegroom not only loves
greatly the solitude of the soul, but is also wounded with love,
because the soul would abide in solitude and detachment, on
account of its being itself wounded with His love. He will
not, therefore, leave it alone; for being wounded with love
because of the soul’s solitude on His account, and seeing that
nothing else can satisfy it, He comes Himself to be alone its
guide, attracts it, and absorbs it in Himself. But He would
not have done so, if He had not found it in this spiritual
solitude.

THE SOUL RIPE FOR HEAVEN. 185

INTRODUCTION.

Ir is a strange characteristic of persons in love, that they take
a much greater pleasure in their loneliness than in associating
with others. For if they meet together in the presence of
others with whom they need have no intercourse, and from
whom they have nothing to conceal, and if those others neither
address them nor interfere with them, yet the very fact of their
presence is sufficient to rob the lovers of all pleasure in their
meeting. The cause of this lies in the fact, that love is the
union of two persons, who will not communicate with each
other if they are not alone. And now the soul, having reached
the summit of perfection, and liberty of spirit in God, all the
resistance and contradictions of the flesh being subdued, has
no other occupation or employment than indulgence in the
joys of its intimate love of the Bridegroom. It is written of
holy Tobias, after the trials of his life were over, that God
restored his sight, and that ‘the rest of his life was in joy.’*
So is it with the perfect soul, it rejoices in the blessings that
surround it.

The prophet Isaias says of the soul which, having been tried
in the works of perfection, has arrived at the goal desired :
‘Then shall thy light rise up in darkness, and thy darkness
shall be as the noonday. And the Lord will give thee rest
continually, and will fill thy soul with brightness, and deliver
thy bones, and thou shalt be like a watered garden, and like
a fountain of water whose waters shall not fail. And the
places that have been desolate for ages shall be built in thee:
thou shalt raise up the foundation of generation and genera-
tion; and thou shalt be called the repairer of the fences,
turning the paths into rest. If thou turn away thy foot from

* Tob, xiv. 4.

STANZA

Three peti- —
tions of the
Bride-soul ;

1. For joy in
love and
good works,

186 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

the Sabbath, from doing thy own will in My holy day, and
call the Sabbath delightful, and the Holy of the Lord glorious,
and glorify Him while thou dost not thy own ways, and thy
own will is not found, to speak a word: then shalt thou be
delighted in the Lord, and I will lift thee up above the high
places of the earth, and will feed thee with the inheritance of
Jacob thy father,’* Who is God Himself. The soul, there-
fore, has nothing else to do now but to rejoice in the delights"
of this pasture, and one thing only to desire—the perfect
fruition of it in everlasting life. Thus, in the next and the
following stanzas, it implores the Beloved to admit it into
this beatific pasture in the clear vision of God.

STANZA XXXVI.
THE BRIDE,
Let us rejoice, O my Beloved!
Let us go forth to see ourselves in Thy beauty,
To the mountain and the hill,
Where the pure water flows ;
Let us enter into the heart of the thicket.

The perfect union of love between itself and God being
now effected, the soul longs to occupy itself with the pro-
perties of that love. It is the soul which now speaks,
making three petitions to the Beloved. In the first place,
it asks for the joy and sweetness of love, saying: * Let us
rejoice.’ In the second place it prays to be made like Him,
saying: ‘ Let us go forth to see ourselves in Thy beauty.’ In
the third place, it begs to be admitted to the knowledge of His
secrets, saying: ‘ Let us enter into the heart of the thicket.’

‘ Let us rejoice, O my Beloved.’ Thatis, in the sweetness
of our love; not only in that sweetness of ordinary union, but
also in that which flows from the active and effective love,
whether in the will by an act of affection, or outwardly, in
good works which tend to the service of the Beloved. For

* Is, lviii, 10-14.

BEAUTY OF GOD IN THE SOUL. 187

love, as I have said, where it is firmly rooted, ever runs
after those joys and delights which are the acts of exterior
and interior love. All this the soul does that it may be
made like to the Beloved.

‘Let us go forth to see ourselves in Thy beauty.’ Let us
so act, that, by the practice of this love, we may come to see
ourselves in Thy beauty in everlasting life. That is: Let me be
so transformed in Thy beauty, that, being alike in beauty, we
may see ourselves both in Thy beauty; having Thy beauty,
so that, one beholding the other, each may see his own beauty
in the other, the beauty of both being Thine only, and mine
absorbed in it. And thus I shall see Thee in Thy beauty, and
myself in Thy beauty, and Thou shalt see me in Thy beauty ;
and I shall see myself in Thee in Thy beauty, and Thou Thy-
self in me in Thy beauty; so shall I seem to be Thyself in
Thy beauty, and Thou myself in Thy beauty; my beauty shall
be Thine, Thine shall be mine, and I shall be Thou in it, and
Thou myself in Thine own beauty; for Thy beauty will be my
beauty, and so we shall see, each the other, in Thy beauty.
This is the adoption of the sons of God, who may truly say
what the Son Himself says to the Eternal Father: ‘ All My
things are Thime, and Thine are Mine,’* He by essence, being
the Son of God by nature, we by participation, being sons by
adoption. This He says not for Himself only, Who is the
Head, but for the whole mystical body, which is the Church.
For the Church will participate in the very beauty of the
Bridegroom in the day of her triumph, when she shall see God
face to face. And this is the vision which the soul prays
that the Bridegroom and itself may go in His beauty to see.

* To the mountain and the hill.’ That is, to the morning and
essential knowledge of God, which is the knowledge of Him
in the Divine Word, Who, because He is so high, is here

* 8S. John xvii. 10.

Christ, the
Son of God

Obstetions:

sons by

188 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

signified by ‘the mountain.’ Thus Isaias saith, calling upon
men to know the Son of God: ‘Come, and let us go up to _
the mountain of the Lord;’* and before: ‘In the last days
the mountain of the house of the Lord shall be prepared.’ f

‘ And tothe hill.’ That is, to the evening knowledge of God,
to the knowledge of Him in His creatures, in His works, and
in His marvellous laws. This is signified by the expression
‘hill,’ because it is a lower kind of knowledge than the other.
The soyl prays for both when it says: ‘to the mountain and
the hill.’

When the soul says: § Let us go forth to see ourselves in
Thy beauty to the mountain,’ its meaning is: Transform me,
and make me like the beauty of the Divine Wisdom, the
Word, the Son of God. When it says: ‘to the hill, the
meaning is: Do Thou instruct me in the beauty of this lower
knowledge, which is manifest in Thy creatures and mysterious
works. This also is the beauty of the Son of God, where-
with the soul desires to be enlightened.

But the soul cannot see itself in the beauty of God if it be
not transformed in His wisdom, wherein all things are seen
and possessed, whether in heaven or in earth. It was to
this mountain and to this hill the Bride longed to come
when she said: ‘I will go to the mountain of myrrh, and to
the hill of frankincense.’ { The mountain of myrrh is the
clear vision of God, and the hill of frankincense the know-
ledge of Him in His works, for the myrrh on the mountain is
more precious than the incense on the hill.

‘Where the pure water flows.’ This is the wisdom and
knowledge of God, which cleanse the intellect, and detach
it from all accidents and fancies, and which clear it of the
mist of ignorance. The soul is ever influenced by this
desire of perfectly and clearly understanding the Divine

* Is, ii, 3. t Ib. 2. } Cant, iv, 6,

INFINITE DEPTHS OF DIVINE TRUTH. 189

verities, and the more it loves the more it desires to pene-
trate them, and hence the third petition which it makes.
_ *Let us enter into the heart of the thicket;’ into the
depths of God’s marvellous works and profound judgments.
Such is their multitude and variety, that they may be called a
thicket. They are so full of wisdom and mystery, that we
may not only call them a thicket, but we may even apply
to them the words of David: ‘The mountain of God is a
rich mountain, a mountain curdled as cheese, a rich moun-
tain.’* The thicket of the wisdom and knowledge of God
is so deep, and so immense, that the soul, though ever know-
ing more of it, may always penetrate further within it, because
it isso immense and so incomprehensible. ‘O the depth,’ cries
out the Apostle, ‘of the riches of the wisdom and of the
knowledge of God! How incomprehensible are His judg-
ments, and how unsearchable His ways!’t But the soul longs
to enter this thicket and incomprehensibility of His judg-
ments, for it faints away with the desire of entering into a
deeper knowledge of them. The knowledge of them is an
inestimable delight, transcending all understanding. David
speaking of the sweetness of them, saith: ‘The judgments of
our Lord are true, justified in themselves, to be desired above
gold and many precious stones, and sweeter than honey
and the honey-comb. For Thy servant keepeth them.’
The soul longs to be profoundly absorbed in His judgments,
and to have a deeper knowledge of them, and for that end
would esteem it a joy and consolation to endure all sufferings
and afflictions of the world, and whatever else might con-
duce to that end, however hard and painful it might be; it
would gladly pass through the agonies of death to enter
deeper into God.

Hence, also, the thicket, which the soul desires to enter,

* Ps, lxvii. 16, + Rom. xi, 33, t Ps. xviii. 10-12,

190 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE,

may be appropriately understood as signifying the great
variety of trials and tribulations which the soul longs for,
because suffering is most sweet and most profitable to it,
inasmuch as it is the way by which it enters more and more into
the thicket of the delicious wisdom of God. The most pure
suffering leads to the most pure and the deepest knowledge,
and consequently, to the purest and highest joy, for that is
the issue of the deepest knowledge. Thus, the soul, not
satisfied with ordinary suffering, says: ‘ Let us enter into the
heart of the thicket,’ even the anguish of death, that I may
see God.

Job, desiring to suffer that he might see God, thus speaks :
‘Who will grant that my request may come, and that God
may give me what I look for? And that He that hath
begun may destroy me, that He may let loose His hand and
cut me off? And that this may be my comfort, that, afflict-
ing me with sorrow, He spare not.’* O that men would
understand how impossible it is to enter the thicket, the
manifold riches of the wisdom of God, without entering into
the thicket of suffering — which, like the wisdom of God,
has various manifestations — grounding thereon all the com-
fort and consolation of their souls ; and how that the soul
which really longs for the Divine wisdom, longs first of all
for the sufferings of the Cross, that it may enter in. For this
cause it was that 8S. Paul admonished the Ephesians not to
faint in their tribulations, but to take courage: ‘That being
rooted and founded in charity, you may be able to compre-
hend with all the.saints what is the breadth, and length, and
height, and depth; to know also the charity of Christ, which
surpasseth all knowledge, that you may be filled unto all the
fulness of God.’t The gate by which we enter into the
riches of the knowledge of God, is the Cross; and that gate is

* Job vi.8-10. | { Ephes, iii. 17-19.

TO KNOW GOD IS ETERNAL LIFE. 191

narrow. They who desire to enter in that way are few,
while those who desire the joys that come by it are many.

INTRODUCTION.

One of the principal reasons why the soul desires to be
released and to be with Christ, is, that it may see Him face to
face, and penetrate to the depths of His ways and the eternal
mysteries of His Incarnation, which is not the least important
part of its blessedness; for Christ Himself hath said: ‘ Now
this is eternal life: that they may know Thee, the only true
God, and Jesus Christ Whom Thou hast sent.’* As the first
act of a person who has taken a long journey is to see and
converse with him whom he was in search of, so the first
thing which the soul desires, when it has attained to the
Beatific Vision, is to know and enjoy the deep secrets and
mysteries of the Incarnation and the ancient ways of God de-
pending on them. Thus the soul, having said that it longed
* for the beauty of God, sings as in the following stanza :—

a
4
r

;

>

,

:

OO EE ——<——

STANZA XXXVII.

We shall go at once

To the lofty caverns of the rock
Which are all secret,

There we shall enter in,

And taste of the new wine of the pomegranate.

: One of the reasons which most influence the soul to desire
to enter into the ‘ thicket’ of the wisdom of God, and to have
a more intimate knowledge of the beauty of the Divine
Wisdom, is, as I have said, that it may unite the intellect
with God in the knowledge of the mysteries of the Incarna-
tion, as being the highest and the most delicious knowledge

* S, John xvii. 3.

7 = «=

STANZA
XXXVI.

. STANZA

Incarnation.

192 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

of all His works. And here the Bride says, that after she has

entered in within the Divine Wisdom —that is, into the
Spiritual Matrimony, which is now and will be in glory,

seeing God face to face—her soul united with the Divine ©

Wisdom, the Son of God, she will then understand the deep
mysteries of God and Man, which are the highest wisdom
hidden in God, They, that is, the Bride and the Bride-
groom, will enter in—the soul ingulfed and absorbed---
and both together will have the fruition of the joy which
springs from the knowledge of mysteries, namely, the attri-
butes and power of God which are revealed in those mysteries,
such as His justice, His mercy, wisdom, power, and love.
‘We shall go at once to the lofty caverns of the rock.’
‘ This rock is Christ,’ as we learn from S. Paul.* The lofty
caverns of the rock are the sublime mysteries of the wisdom
of God in Christ, in the hypostatical union of the human
nature with the Divine Word, and in the correspondence with
it of the union of man with God, and in the congruity of
God’s justice and mercy in the salvation of mankind, in the

manifestation of His judgments. And because His judgments °

are so high and so deep, they are here fittingly called ‘lofty
caverns ;’ lofty because of the sublimity of His mysteries, and
caverns because of the depth of His wisdom in them. For as
caverns are deep, with many windings, so each mystery of
Christ is of deepest wisdom, and has many windings of

His secret judgments of predestination and foreknowledge -

with respect to men.

‘Which are all secret.’ Notwithstanding the marvel-
lous mysteries which holy doctors have discovered, and
holy souls have understood in this life, many more remain
behind. There are in Christ great depths to be fathomed,
for He is a rich mine, with many recesses full of treasure,

* 1 Cor. x. 4

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and however deeply we may descend we shall never reach
the end, for in every recess new veins of new treasures

abound in all directions: ‘In Whom,’ according to the
Apostle, ‘are hid all the treasures of wisdom and know-
ledge.’* But the soul cannot reach to these hidden treasures
unless it first passes through the thicket of interior and
exterior suffering: for even such a knowledge of the mys-
teries of Christ as is possible in this life, cannot be had
without great sufferings, and without many intellectual and
moral gifts, and without previous spiritual exercises ; but all
these gifts are far inferior to this knowledge of the mysteries
of Christ, being only a preparation for it. Thus God said to

_ Moses, when he asked to see His glory, ‘Man shall not see

Me and live.’ God, however, said that He would show him
all that could be revealed in this world; and so He set Moses
‘in a hole of the rock,’ which is Christ, where he might see
His ‘back parts ;’f that is, He gave him the understanding
of the mysteries of the Sacred Humanity.

The soul longs to enter into these caverns of Christ, that
it may be thus absorbed, transformed, and inebriated with love
in the knowledge of His mysteries, hiding itself in the bosom
of the Beloved. It is into these caverns that He invites the
Bride to enter, saying: ‘ Arise, my love, my beautiful one,
and come; my dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hollow
places of the wall.’{ These clefts of the rock are the caverns
of which we are here speaking.

* And there we shall enter in,’ into this knowledge and these
Divine mysteries. The soul says not, ‘I will enter’ alone,
which seems the most fitting—seeing that the Bridegroom
has no need to enter in again—but ‘we will enter,’ that is,
the Bridegroom and the bride. It seems to say that this is

. not the work of the soul, but of the Bridegroom with it.

* Coloss, ii. 3. + Exod. xxiii, 20-28, t Cant. ii. 13, 14.
VoL. Il. oO

TRUTH AS IT IS IN JESUS. 193

STANZA
XXXVII.

Conditions
necessary for
knowing
Christ.

The Incarna-
tion taught

194 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

xxxvi Moreover, inasmuch as God and the soul are now united in
The perfect Spiritual matrimony, the soul doeth nothing of itself without
nothing of God. And thus, to say ‘ we will enter,’ is as much as saying,
there shall we transform ourselves: that is, I shall be trans- ~
formed in Thee through the love of Thy Divine and sweet
judgments; for in the knowledge of the predestination of the
just, and in the foresight of the wicked, wherein the Father
foreknew the just in benedictions of sweetness in Jesus Christ
His Son, the soul is transformed in a most exalted and per-
fect way in the love of God according to this knowledge,
giving thanks to the Father, and loving Him again and again
with great sweetness and delight, for the sake of Jesus Christ
His Son. This the soul does in union with Christ and
together with Him. The delight flowing from this act of
praise is ineffably sweet, and the soul speaks of it in the
words that follow.

Joy in the ‘And taste of the new wine of the pomegranates.’ The

and judg- = pomegranates are the mysteries of Christ and the judgments

— of the wisdom of God; His powers and attributes which,
through the knowledge of these mysteries, are known in God to
be infinite. For as pomegranates have many grains in their
circular orb, so each one of the attributes and judgments and
powers of God involve a multitude of admirable arrangements
and marvellous issues contained within the spherical orbit of
power and mystery, appertaining to those issues. Consider
the round spherical form of the pomegranate ; for each pome-
granate signifies some one power and attribute of God, which
power or attribute is God Himself, symbolized here by the
circular figure, for such has neither beginning nor end. It
was in the contemplation of the infinite judgments and
mysteries of the wisdom of God that the bride said, * His
belly is of ivory set with sapphires.’"* The sapphires are the

* Cant. v. 14.

=P Pra.” ae ae ee

net eee

re ai _” 414-2 a 7
~ . or ad

NEW WINE OF THE POMEGRANATES. 195

e : “mysteries and judgments of the Divine Wisdom, which is

here signified by the ‘ belly’—the sapphire being a precious
stone of the colour of the heavens when clear and serene.

The wine of the pomegranates is the fruition and joy of the
love of God which overflows the soul in the understanding
and knowledge of His mysteries. For as the many grains of
the pomegranate pressed together give forth but one wine, so
all the marvels and magnificence of God, infused into the
soul, issue in but one fruition and joy of love, which is the
drink of the Holy Ghost, and which the soul offers at once to
God the Word, its Bridegroom, with great tenderness of love.
This Divine drink the bride promised to the Bridegroom if
He would lead her into this deep knowledge: ‘There Thou
shalt lead me,’ saith the bride, ‘ and I will give Thee a cup
of spiced wine, and new wine of my pomegranates.’"* The
soul, indeed, calls them ‘my pomegranates,’ though they are
God’s, Who had given them to it, and the soul offers them
to God asif they were its own, saying, ‘we will taste of
the wine of the pomegranates ;’ for when He tastes it He gives
it to the soul to taste, and” when the soul tastes it, the soul
gives it back to Him, and thus it is that both taste it together.
Now the pomegranates are Divine Knowledge.

INTRODUCTION.

In the two previous stanzas the bride sung of those blessings
which the Bridegroom is to give her in everlasting bliss,
namely, her transformation in the beauty of created and
uncreated wisdom, and also in the beauty of the union of the
Word with flesh, wherein she shall behold His face as well as
His back. Accordingly two things are set before us in the

* Cant. viii. 2.
o2

STANZA

The soul

desires to
love God as it
is loved by
Him,

196 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE,

following stanza. The first is the way in which the soul
tastes of the Divine wine of the pomegranates ; the second is
the soul’s putting before the Bridegroom the glory of its pre-
destination. And though these two things are spoken of

separately, one after the other, they are both involved in the ©

one essential glory of the soul.

STANZA XXXVIII.

There Thou wilt show me

What my soul desired ;

And there Thou wilt give me at once,
O Thou, my Life!

What Thou gavest me the other day.

The reason why the soul longed to enter the caverns was
that it might attain to the consummation of the love of God,
the object of its continual desires; that is, that it might love
God with the pureness and perfection wherewith He has

loved it, so that it might thereby requite His love. Hence
in the present stanza the bride saith to the Bridegroom that

He will there show her what she had always aimed at in all

her actions, namely, that He would show her how to love
Him perfectly, as He has loved her. And, secondly, that
what He will bestow upon her there is that essential glory for
which He has predestined her from the day of His eternity.
‘There Thou wilt show me what my soul desired.’ This
desire or aim of the soul is equality in love with God, the
object of natural and supernatural desire. He who loves
cannot be satisfied if he does not feel that he loves as much
as he is beloved. And when the soul sees that in the trans-
formation in God, such as is possible in this life, notwith-
standing the immensity of its love, it cannot equal the
perfection of that love wherewith God loves it, it desires the
clear transformation of glory wherein it shall equal the per-
fection of love wherewith it is itself beloved of God; it
desires, I say, the clear transformation of glory wherein it

LOVE FOR LOVE. 197

E= © ‘shall equal His love, For though in this high estate, which
the soul reaches on earth, there exists a real union of the will,

yet it cannot reach that perfection and strength of love which
it is to reach in the union of glory ; seeing that then, accord-
- ing to the Apostle, the soul will know God as it is known of
Him: ‘Now I know in part; but then I shall know even as I
am known.’* That is, I shall then love God even as I am
loved by Him. For as the understanding of the soul will
then be the understanding of God, and its will the will of
God, so its love will also be His love. Though in Heaven the
will of the soul is not destroyed, it is so intimately united
with the power of the will of God, Who loves it, that it loves
Him as strongly and as perfectly as it is loved of Him; both
wills being united in one sole will and in one sole love of
God. Thus the soul loves God with the will and.strength of
God Himself, being made one with that very strength of love
wherewith itself is loved of God. This strength is of the
Holy Ghost, in Whom the soul is there transformed. He is
given to the soul to strengthen its love; ministering to it,
and supplying in it, because of its transformation in glory,
that which is defective in it. In the perfect transformation,
also, of the estate of spiritual marriage, such as is possible on
earth, in which the soul is all clothed in grace, the soul loves
in a certain way in the Holy Ghost, Who is given to it in
that transformation,

We are to observe here that the bride does not say, There
wilt Thou give me Thy love, though that be true—for that
. means only that God will love her—but that He will there
show her how she is to love Him with that perfection at
which she aims, because there He will give her His love, and
at the same time show her how to love Him as He loves her.
For God not only teaches the soul to love Himself purely,

* 1 Cor, xiii, 12.

STANZA

198 _ A SPIRITUAL ‘CANTICLE.

with a disinterested love, as He hath loved us, but He also
enables it to love Him with that strength with which He
loves the soul, transforming it in His love, wherein He
bestows upon the soul His own power, so that it may love
Him. It is as if He put an instrument in its hand, taught
it the use of it, and played upon it together with the soul.
This is shewing the soul how it is to love, and at the same
time endowing it with the capacity of loving. The soul is

- not satisfied until it reaches this point, neither would it be
unquam Satisfied even in Heaven, unless it felt, as S. Thomas teaches,*

that it loved God as much as it is loved of Him. And as I
have said of the state of spiritual matrimony of which I am
speaking, there is now, at this time, though it cannot be that
perfect love in glory, a certain vivid vision and likeness of
that perfection, which is wholly indescribable.

‘And there Thou wilt give me at once, O Thou my Life,
what Thou gavest me the other day.’ What He will give is
the essential glory which consists in the vision of God.
Before proceeding further it is requisite to solve a question
which arises here, namely: Why is it, seeing that the
essential glory consists in the vision of God, and not in loving
Him, that the soul says that its longing is for His love, and
not for the essential glory? Why is it that the soul begins the ~
stanza with referring to His love, and then introduces the
subject of the essential glory afterwards, as if it were some-
thing of less importance? There are two reasons for this.
The first is this: As the end of all is love, which inheres in the
will, the characteristic of which is to give and not to receive,
and the characteristic of the intellect, the subject of the
essential glory, being to receive and not to give, to the soul
inebriated with love, the first object that presents itself is not
the essential glory which God will bestow upon it, but the

* Opuse, de Beatitudine, cap. 2.

le.

Ag DAY OF GOD'S ETERNITY. 199
- entire surrender of itself to Him in true love, without any
regard to its own advantage.
__-‘The second reason is that the second object is included in
the first, and has been taken for granted in the previous
stanzas, it being impossible to attain to the perfect love of God
without the perfect vision of Him. The question is solved by
the first reason, for the soul renders to God by love that
which is His due, while it rather receives from Him through

I now resume the explanation of the stanza, and enquire
what day is meant by the ‘ other day, and what is it that
God then gave the soul, and what that is which it prays for
afterwards in glory? By this ‘ other day’ is meant the day of
the eternity of God, which is other than the day of time. In
that day of eternity God predestined the soul unto glory, and
determined the glory which He would give it, which He freely
gave it from the beginning before He created it. This now,
_ in a manner, so truly belongs to the soul that no event or
accident, high or low, can ever take it away, for the soul must
enjoy for ever that for which God had predestined it from all
eternity. This is that which He gave it ‘ the other day,’ that
which the soul longs now to possess visibly in glory. And
what is that which He gave it? What ‘ eye hath not seen nor
ear heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man.’*
‘The eye hath not seen,’ saith the Prophet, ‘OQ God besides
Thee, what things Thou hast prepared for them that wait for
Thee.’ t The soul has no words to describe it, so it says
*What.’ It is in truth the vision of God, and as there is no
expression by which we can explain what it is to see God, the
soul says only ‘what Thou gavest me.’

But that I may not leave the subject without saying some-
thing further concerning it, I will repeat what Christ hath

* 1 Cor, ii. 9. + Is. lxiv, 4.

6. The temple
of God, and

200 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE,

said of it in many terms, phrases, and comparisons, because
a single word once uttered cannot describe it, for there is

speaks much still unsaid, notwithstanding all that Christ hath spoken

at seven different times. ‘To him that overcometh,’ saith
He, ‘I will give to eat of the tree of life, which is in the
paradise of My God.’* But as this does not perfectly describe
it, He says again: ‘ Be thou faithful unto death; and I wil
give thee the crown of life.’ + )

This also is insufficient, and so He adds somewhat obscurely,
but still explaining it: ‘To him that overcometh I will give
the hidden manna, and will give him a white counter, and on
the counter a new name written, which no man knoweth but
he that receiveth it.’t{ And as even this is still insufficient,
He proceeds to speak of great power and joy, saying: ‘ He
that shall overcome and keep My works unto the end, I will
give him power over the nations, and he shall rule them with
a rod of iron, and as a vessel of the potter they shall be
broken, as I also have received of My Father, and I will give
him the morning star.’§ Christ is not yet satisfied with what
He hath said; and He adds: ‘ He that shall overcome shall
thus be clothed in white garments, and I will not blot out his
name out of the book of life, and I will confess his name
before My Father.’ ||

Still, all this falls short of the reality, and so Christ pro-
ceeds with words of unutterable majesty and grandeur to
describe that which He gave the soul the other day: ‘He
that shall overcome I will make him a pillar in the temple
of My God, and he shall go out no more; and I will write
upon him the name of My God, and the name of the city of
My God, the new Jerusalem which cometh down out of
Heaven from My God, and My new name.’ § The seventh

* Apoe, ii. 7.
§ Ib. 26-8.

« . T
Oo tie

C -r
. he ee ea

VICTORY AND CROWN. 201

time He says: ‘To him that shall overcome, I will give to
sit in My throne: so I also have overcome, and am set down

with My Father in His throne. He that hath an ear let him °

hear what the Spirit saith to the Churches.’ *

These are the words of the Son of God; all of which tend
to describe that which was given to the soul. The words
correspond most accurately with it, but still they do not
explain it, because it involves infinite good. The noblest
expressions befit it, but none of them reach it, no, not all
together.

Let us now see whether David hath said anything of it.
In one of the Psalms he saith; ‘ O how great is the multitude
of Thy sweetness, O Lord, which Thou hast hidden for them
that fear Thee.’t Im another place he describes it as a
‘torrent of pleasure,’ saying, ‘ Thou shalt make them drink
of the torrent of Thy pleasure.’t And as he did not consider
this enough, he says again, ‘ Thou hast prevented him with
blessings of sweetness.’§ The expression that rightly fits

STANZA
XXXVIII.

i
i

It is beyond

adequate
this ‘what’ of the soul, namely its predestined bliss, cannot ‘Peo

be found. Let us, therefore, rest satisfied with what the soul
has used in reference to it, and explain the words as follows:
‘What Thou gavest me,’ that is, that weight of glory to
which Thou didst predestinate me, O my Bridegroom, in the
day of Thy eternity, when it was Thy good pleasure to decree
my creation, Thou wilt then give me in my day of my betrothal
and of my nuptials, in my day of the joy of my heart, when
released from the burden of the flesh, led into the lofty
caverns of Thy bridal chamber and gloriously transformed in
Thee we drink the wine of the sweet pomegranates.

* Ib. iii. 21, 22... + Pa. xxx. 20. { Ib. xxxv.9. § Ib, xx. 4.

STANZA
XXXIX.

202 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

INTRODUCTION.

Bor inasmuch as the soul, in the state of Spiritual Matri-
mony, of which I am now speaking, cannot but know
something of this ‘ What,’ seeing that because of its transfor-
mation in God something of that ‘ What’ must be experienced
by it, it will not omit to say something on the subject, the
pledges and signs of which it is conscious of in itself, as it is
written : ‘ Who can withhold the words he hath conceived?’ *
Hence in the following stanza the soul says something of the
fruition which it shall have in the Beatific Vision, explaining
so far as it is possible the nature and the manner of it.

STANZA XXXTX,

The breathing of the air,

The song of the sweet nightingale,

The grove and its beauty

In the serene night,

With the fire that consumes but without pain.

The soul refers here, under five different expressions, to
that which the Bridegroom is to bestow upon it in the beatific
transformation. 1. The aspiration of the Holy Spirit of God
after it, and its own aspiration after God. 2. Exultation in

God in the fruition of Him. 3. The knowledge of creatures

and the order of them. 4. The pure and clear contemplation
of the Divine Essence. 5. Perfect transformation in the
infinite love of God.

* € The breathing of the air.’ This is a certain faculty which
God will there bestow upon the soul in the communication
of the Holy Ghost, Who, like one breathing, elevates the soul
by His Divine aspiration, informs it, strengthens it, so that it
too may breathe in God ,with the same aspiration of love

* Job iv. 2.

1
¢

- ~-

BREATH OF ETERNAL LIFE. 203

Fe _ which the Father breathes with the Son, and the Son with the

——

Father, which is the Holy Ghost Himself: Who is breathed
into the soul in the Father and the Son in that transforma-

tion so as to unite it to Himself; for the transformation will
not be true and perfect if the soul is not transformed in the
Three Persons of the Most Holy Trinity in a clear manifest
degree. This breathing of the Holy Ghost in the soul,
whereby God transforms it in Himself, is to the soul a joy so
deep, so exquisite, and so sublime, that no mortal tongue can
describe it, no human understanding, as such, conceive it in
any degree ; for even that which passes in the soul with
respect to the communication which takes place in its trans-
formation wrought in this life, cannot be described, because
the soul united with God and transformed in Him, breathes
in God that very Divine aspiration which God breathes Him-
self in the soul when it is transformed in Him.

In the transformation which takes place in this life, this
breathing of God in the soul, and of the soul in God, is of
most frequent occurrence, and the source of the most exqui-
site delight of love to the soul, but not however in the clear
and manifest degree which it will have in the life to come.
This, in my opinion, is what S. Paul referred to when he said :
* Because you are sons, God hath sent the Spirit of His Son
into your hearts, crying Abba, Father. * The Blessed in the
life to come and the: perfect in this thus experience it. Nor
is it to be thought impossible that the soul should be capable
of so great a thing, that it should breathe in God as God in
it, in the way of participation. For granting that God has
bestowed upon it so great a fayour as to unite it to the most
Holy Trinity, whereby it becomes like unto God, and God by
participation, is it altogether incredible that it should exercise
the faculties of its intellect, perform its acts of knowledge

* Gal. iv. 6,

STANZA
XXXIX.

The soul, in
power,

image
of the Blessed
Trinity,

of

for
the unity of
His Church

in love,

204 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE,

and of love, or to speak more accurately, should have it all
done in the Holy Trinity together with It, as the Holy Trinity

Itself? This however takes place by communication and ~

participation, God Himself effecting it in the soul, for this is
to be transformed in the Three Persons in power, wisdom, and
love, and herein it is that the soul becomes like unto God,
Who, that it might come to this, created it in His own image
and likeness.

How this can be so cannot be explained in any other way
than by showing how the Son of God has raised us to so high
an estate, and merited for us the ‘ Power to be made the sons
of God.’* He prayed to the Father saying: ‘ Father, I will
that where I am, they also whom Thou hast given Me may be
with Me, that they may see My glory which Thou hast given
Me.’¢ That is, that they may do by participation in us what I
do naturally, namely, breathe the Holy Ghost. He says also:
‘Not for them only do I pray, but for them also who through
their word shall believe in Me, that they all may be one, as
Thou Father in Me, and I in Thee, that they also may be
one in Us: that the world may believe that Thou hast sent
Me. And the glory which Thou hast given Me, I have given
to them: that they may be one as We also are one. [in them
and Thou in Me, that they may be made perfect in one, and
the world may know that Thou hast Sent Me, and hast loved
them as Thou hast also loved Me, { that is in bestowing upon
them that love which He bestows upon the Son, though not
naturally as upon Him, but in the way I speak of, in the
union and transformation of love. Nor are we to suppose
from this that our Lord prayed that the saints might become
one in essential and natural unity, as the Father and the Son
are; but that they might become one in the union of love as
the Father and the Son are one in the oneness of their love.

* §. John i. 12, + Ib, xvii. 24. t Ib. xvii, 20-8,

L- Thus 18 souls have this vk ene by participation which the
Be P Bax has by nature, and are therefore really gods by partici-
a like unto God and of His nature. 8. Peter speaks of

- this as follows: ‘Grace to you and peace be accomplished in

the knowledge of God, and of Christ Jesus our Lord ; as all
things of His divine power, which appertain to life and
godliness, are given us, through the knowledge of Him Who
hath called us by His own proper glory and virtue, by Whom
__ _He hath given us most great and precious promises: that
by these you may be made partakers of the Divine nature.’*

‘Thus far S. Peter, who clearly teaches that the soul will be a
partaker of God Himself, Who will effect within it, together
with it, the work of the Most Holy Trinity, because of the sub-
stantial union between the soul and God. And though this
union be perfect only in the life to come, yet even in this, in
the state of perfection to which the soul is supposed now to
have reached, some anticipation of its sweetness is given it,
in the way I am speaking of, though in a manner wholly
ineffable.

O souls created for this, and called thereto, what are you
doing? What are your occupations? Your aim is meanness,
and your enjoyments misery. Oh, wretched blindness of the
children of Adam, blind to so great a light, and deaf to so
clear a voice; you see not that, while seeking after greatness
and glory, you are miserable and contemptible, ignorant, and
unworthy of blessings so great. I now proceed to the second
expression which the soul has made use of to describe what
He gave it.

* The song of the sweet nightingale.’ Out of this ‘ breathing
of the air’ comes the sweet voice of the Beloved addressing
Himself to the soul, in which the soul also sends forth its own
sweet exultation in Him. Both the one and the other are

* 2S. Pet. i. 2-4.

STANZA

Winter past :
Spring come.

206 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

meant by the song of the nightingale. As the song of the

nightingale is heard in the spring of the year, when the cold,

and rain, and storms of winter are passed, filling the ear with
melody, and the mind with joy; so, in the true intercourse
and transformation of love, which takes place in this life, the
bride now protected and delivered from all earthly trials and
temptations; purified and detached from the imperfections,
troubles and darkness, both of mind and body, becomes
conscious of a new spring in liberty, largeness, and joy of
spirit, when she hears the sweet voice of the Bridegroom,
Who is her sweet nightingale, renewing and refreshing the
very substance of her soul, which is now prepared for the
journey of everlasting life. That voice is sweet to her ears,
and calls her sweetly, as it is written: ‘ Arise, make haste,
my love, my dove, my beautiful one, and come. For winter
is now past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers haye
appeared in our land, the time of pruning is come: the
voice of the turtle is heard in our land.’* When the bride
hears the voice of the Bridegroom in her inmost soul, she
feels that her troubles are over and her prosperity begun.
In the refreshing comfort and sweet sense of this voice, the
bride herself, like the nightingale, sends forth her voice in
new songs of rejoicing unto God, in unison with Him Who
now moves her to do so.

It is for this that the Beloved gives His voice to the Bride;
that she in unison with Him may give it unto God; this is
the aim and desire of the Bridegroom, that the soul should
sing spiritually unto God; and this is what He asks of the
Bride in the Canticle: ‘ Arise, my love, my beautiful one,
and come; my dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hollow
places of the wall, shew me thy face, let thy voice sound in

my ears. {| The ears of God signify the desire He hath that

* Cant. ii. 10-12. + Ib. ii. 18, 14.

—S THE GROVE AND ITS BEAUTY. 207

a,

the soul should send forth its voice of perfect jubilation. And
____ that this voice may be perfect, the Bridegroom bids the soul
to send it forth, and to let it sound in the clefts of the rock,
, in that transformation which I spoke of in connection with
the mysteries of Christ. And because in this union of the
soul with God, the soul sings praises unto Him together with
Him, in the way I spoke of when I was speaking of love, the
praises it sends forth are most perfect and pleasing unto God;
for the acts of the soul, in the state of perfection, are most
perfect ; and thus the voice of its rejoicing is sweet unto God
as well as to itself. ‘Thy voice is sweet,’ * saith the Bride-
groom, not only to thee, but also to Me, for as we are one,
thy voice is also in unison and one with Mine. This is the
canticle which the soul sings in the transformation which
takes place in this life, about which no exaggeration is
possible. But as this song is not so perfect as the new
song in the life of glory, the soul, having a foretaste of that
by what it feels on earth, shadows forth by the grandeur
of this the magnificence of that in glory, which is beyond all
comparison nobler, and calls it to mind and says that what
its portion there will be, is the song of the sweet nightingale.

‘The grove and its beauty.’ This is the third thing which 3.

it contains many plants and animals, signifies God as the
Creator and Giver of life to all creatures, which have their
being and origin from Him, and which show Him to be God,
and make Him known as the Creator. The beauty of the grove,
which the soul prays for, is not only the grace, wisdom, and
loveliness which flow from God over all created things, whether
in heaven or on earth, but also the beauty of the mutual
harmony and wise arrangement of the inferior creation in
itself, and the higher also in itself, and of the mutual relations

* Cant. ii. 14,

the Bridegroom is to give to the soul. The grove, because crest

STANZA
XXXTX,

208 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

of great joy and satisfaction. The fourth request is :—
‘In the serene night.’ That is, contemplation, in which the

soul desires to behold the grove. It is called night, because

contemplation is obscure; and that is the reason why it is also
called mystical theology, that is, the secret or hidden wisdom
of God, wherein God, without the sound of words, or the
intervention of any bodily or spiritual sense; as it were in
silence and in repose, in the darkness of sense and nature,
teaches the soul—and the soul knows not how—in a most

secret and hidden way. Some spiritual writers call this

‘understanding without understanding,’ because it does not
take place in what philosophers call the active intellect,
which is conversant with the forms, fancies, and appre-
hensions of the physical faculties, but in the intellect as it is
passive, which, without receiving such forms, receives pas-
sively only the substantial intelligence of them free from all
imagery. This occurs in the intellect without effort or
exertion on its part, and for this reason contemplation is
called night, in which the soul, through the channel of its
transformation, learns in this life that it already has, in a
supreme degree, this Divine grove, together with its
beauty.

Still, however profound may be its knowledge of this, it is
obscure night in comparison with that of the Blessed, for
which the soul prays. Hence, while it prays for the clear
contemplation; that is, the fruition of the grove and its beauty
with the other objects here enumerated, it says let it be in the
night now serene; that is, in the clear beatific contemplation:
let the night of obscure contemplation cease here below, and
change into the clear contemplation of the serene vision of
God above. Thus the serene night is the clear and unclouded
contemplation of the face of God. It was to this night of
contemplation that David referred, when he said: ‘ Night

of both. The contemplation of this is to the soul a subject

“shall be my light in my pleasures;’* that is, when I shall

have my delight in the essential vision of God, the night of
contemplation will have dawned in the day and light of my
intellect.

‘ With the fire that consumes but without pain.’ The fire,
here, is the love of the Holy Ghost; and ‘consuming’ signi-
fies to make perfect. It is said that the soul is to have all
things mentioned here given it by the Beloved, and that it
shall possess them all in perfect and consummate love—all
of them, and itself together with them, absorbed therein—
and that is love without pain. Now, this is to show the
entire perfection of that love, for these two qualities are
necessary to constitute its perfection; that is, it must con-
sume the soul, and transform it in God: this burning and
transformation also must be painless. Now this can never
happen except in the state of bliss, and where this fire is
sweet love. In that transformation of the soul both parts of it
are in a state of beatific conformity and satisfaction. There is,
therefore, no suffering from any changes, such as increase or
decrease of love, as was the case before, when the soul had
not reached to this perfect love. Now, when it has attained
thereto, it exists in such conformable and sweet love for God,
that it knows Him only, though He is a consuming fire, as
the Author of its consummate perfection. This is not like
the transformation which took place upon earth, which, though
most perfect and complete in love, was still, in some degree,
consuming the soul and wearing it away. It was like fire
in burning coals, for though the coals may be transformed into
fire, and conformed to it, and have ceased from seething, and
smoke no longer arises from them, as was the case before
they were wholly transformed into fire, still, though they
have become perfect fire, the fire consumes them and reduces
them into ashes.

* Ps. exxxviii. 11. t Deuteron. iv. 24.

VOL. II. P

e

4" =——" 2) BP ee ae Ce
_?.

210 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

Such is the state of the soul which in this life is
in perfect love: for though it be wholly conformed, yet it
still suffers, in some measure, both pain and loss. Pain, on
account of the beatific transformation which is still wanting;
loss, through the weakness and corruption of the flesh coming
in contact with love so strong and so deep: for everything
that is grand hurts and pains our natural infirmity, as it is
written: ‘The corruptible body is a load upon the soul,’*
But in the life of bliss there will be neither loss nor pain,
though the sense of the soul will be most acute, and its love
without measure, for.God will give it power in the former and
strength in the latter, perfecting the intellect in His Wisdom
and the will in His Love.

As, in the foregoing stanzas, and in the one which follows,
the Bride prays for the boundless knowledge of God, for which
she requires the strongest and the deepest love that she may
love Him in proportion to the grandeur of His communi-
cations, she prays now that all these things may be bestowed
upon her in love consummated, perfect, and strong.

STANZA XL.

None saw it ;

Neither did Aminadab appear.
The siege was intermitted,
And the cavalry dismounted
At the vision of the waters,

The Bride perceiving that the desire of her will is now de-
tached from all things, resting upon God with most fervent
love ; that the sensitive part of the soul, with all its powers,
faculties, and desires, is now conformed to the spirit; that all
rebellion is quelled for ever; that Satan is overcome and
driven far away in the varied contest of the spiritual struggle;

* Wisd, ix. 165.

i Et et, ee
-
‘

GOING UP BY THE DESERT OF DEATH. 211

that her soul is united and transformed in the rich abundance

of the heavenly gifts; and that she herself is now prepared,
confirmed in strength, apparelled, ‘leaning upon her Beloved,’
to go up ‘ by the desert’* of death ; full of joy in the glorious
throne of her espousals, and of eager desire for the conclusion
of her nuptials, puts before the eyes of her Bridegroom, in
order to influence Him the more, all that is mentioned in the
present stanza, namely :—

1. The soul detached from all things and a stranger to
them.

2. The devil overcome and put to flight.

3. The passions subdued, and the natural desires mortified.

4, 5. The sensitive and lower nature of the soul changed
and purified, and so conformed to the spiritual, as not only not
to hinder the spiritual blessings, but rather to be prepared
for them, for it is even a partaker already, according to its
capacity, of those which have been bestowed upon the soul.

‘None saw it.’ That is, my soul is so detached, so 1.

denuded, so lonely, so estranged from all created things,
in heaven and earth; it has penetrated so far within into
interior recollection with Thee, that nothing whatever can
come within sight of that most intimate joy which I have in
Thee. That is, there is nothing whatever that can cause me
pleasure with its sweetness, or disgust with its vileness ; for
my soul is so far removed from all such things, absorbed in
such profound delight in Thee, that nothing can behold me.
This is not the whole of my blessedness, for :

*Neither did Aminadab appear.’ Aminadab, in the Holy
Writings, signifies the Devil ; that is, the enemy of the soul, in
a spiritual sense, who is ever fighting against it, and disturbing
it with his innumerable artillery, that it may not enter into
the fortress and secret place of interior recollection with the

* Cant. viii. 5; iii. 6.
rP2

STANZA
ne

The soul ripe
for Heaven:

Five signs :

4,5. The flesh
conformed to
the spirit.

212 A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE.

Bridegroom. There, the soul is so protected, so strong, so
triumphant in virtue which it then practises, so defended by
God’s right hand, that the Devil not only dares not approach
it, but runs away from it in great fear, and does not venture
to appear. The practice of virtue, and the state of perfection
to which the soul has come, is a victory over Satan, and causes
him such terror,that he cannot present himself before it. Thus
Aminadab appeared not with any right to disturb the soul.

‘ The siege was intermitted.’ By the siege is meant the
array of the passions and desires, which, when not overcome
and mortified, surround the soul and fight against it on all

sides. Hence the term siege is applied to them, This siege is —

‘intermitted,’ the passions are brought into the subjection of
reason, and the desires mortified. Under these circumstances
the soul entreats the Beloved to communicate to it those graces
for which it has prayed, for now the siege is so intermitted as
to be no impediment. Until the four passions of the soul are
ordered in reason according to God, and until the desires are
mortified and purified, the soul is incapable of seeing God.

* The cavalry dismounted at the vision of the waters.’ The

waters are the spiritual joys and blessings which the soul now |
enjoys interiorly with God. By the cavalry is meant the bodily —

senses of the sensitive part, interior as well as exterior, for they
carry with them the phantasms and figures of their objects.
They dismount now at the vision of the waters, because the
sensitive and lower part of the soul in the state of spiritual
matrimony is purified, and in a certain way spiritualised, so
that the soul with its sensitive powers and natural forces
becomes so recollected as to participate and rejoice, in their
way, in the spiritual grandeurs which God communicates to
the soul in the interior spirit. To this did the Psalmist
refer when he said: ‘ My heart and my flesh have rejoiced in
the living God.’ * .

* Ps, lxxxiii. 2.

. : yer ast st S li ‘ = -_ —— A Et = —e,
; iy Spree). Coa a ae AP
mie) ot Zz \ C iek 7 oj
bee oe LF rod ead te ets me
—

_-ENCA MPMI sr BY TH THE WATERS ¢ oF LIFE. | 213

—_ Pais tc be obeaeea that the cavalry did not dismount to
. te of the waters, but only at the vision of them, because
_ the sensitive part of the soul, with its powers, is incapable of
_ tasting substantially and properly the spiritual blessings, not
merely in this life, but also in the life to come. Still,
because of a certain overflowing of the Spirit, they are
____ sensibly refreshed and delighted, and this delight attracts
is them—that i is, the senses with their bodily powers—towards
_ that interior recollection where the soul is drinking the waters
_ of these spiritual benedictions. This condition of the senses
is rather a dismounting at the vision of the waters than
a a dismounting for the purpose of seeing or tasting them.
_ The soul says of them that they dismounted, not that they
went, or did anything else, and the meaning is that in the
communication of the sensitive with the spiritual part of the
soul, when the spiritual waters become its drink, the natural
_ operations subside and merge into spiritual recollection.
_____ All these perfections and dispositions of the soul, the: Bride
4 _ sets forth before her Beloved, the Son of God, longing at
____ the same time to be translated to Him out of the spiritual
marriage, to which God has been pleased to advance her in
the Church militant, to the glorious marriage of the Church
triumphant. Whereunto may He bring of His mercy all those
who call upon the most sweet name of Jesus, the Bridegroom
of faithful souls, to Whom be all honour and glory, together
with the Father and the Holy Ghost, in secula seculorum.

“St ae
Fr. .

Pa a : -. i ry
. —s —— ) = | .
ta he a SF ee

LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

PROLOGUE.

oie is not without some unwillingness that, to satisfy the The Author's
- requests of others, I enter upon the explanation of the four hms ‘and
Ay stanzas which are the subject of this treatise. My unwil- Gv,

eanaae arises from the fact that they relate to matters so
_ interior and spiritual as to baffle the powers of language. The
i apictival transcends the sensual, and he speaks but indiffe-
_ rently of the affections of the spirit who has not an affectionate
_ spirit himself. I have, therefore, in consideration of my own
defects, put off this matter until now. But now that our

Lord seems in some way to have opened to me the way of
es knowledge herein, and ‘to have given me some fervour of
_ spirit, I have resolved to enter on the subject. I know too
well that of myself I can say nothing to the purpose on any
subject, how much less then on a matter of such depth and
substance as this! What is mine here will be nothing but

the defects and errors, and I therefore submit the whole to

_ the better judgment and discretion of our Holy Mother the
Catholic Roman Church, under whose guidance no one goeth

astray. And now having said this, I will venture, in reliance

on the Holy Writings, to give utterance to what I may have
learned, warning all, at the same time, that all I say falls far
short of that which passes in this intimate union of the

soul with God.

acy So: ‘ndiMing @riSMtMtiiGh Taos thea God tasks

b err’
. ts =
bal he eee T
“2 er erveee ee

7 be

bh ea une oa
® o9. Sie << Pa, 2
eae sys

PROLOGUE,

No —.
too great or
God’s love to
bestow.

a ee
*, Pi: :

218 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

favours so great and so wonderful upon those souls whom He
is pleased to comfort. For if we consider it attentively, it is
God Himself as God, and with infinite love and goodness,
Who bestows them; and this being the case, they will not
seem unreasonable, for He hath said Himself that the Father
and the Son and the Holy Ghost ‘ will come to him’ that
loves Him, and will make their abode with him.* And this is
accomplished in making such an one live and abide in the
Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, in the life of God, as it
shall be explained in the stanzas that follow. Though the
former stanzas spoke of the highest degree of perfection
to which it is possible to attain in this life, transformation
in God; yet these, the explanation of which I now propose
to undertake, speak of that love still more perfect and
complete in the same estate of transformation. For though
it is true that the former and the present stanzas refer to
one and the same state of transformation, and that no soul
can pass beyond it as such, still with time and habits of
devotion the soul is more perfected and grounded in it. Thus,
when a log of wood is set on fire, and when it is transformed
into fire and united with it, the longer it burns and the hotter
the fire, the more it glows until sparks and flames are emitted
from it. So too the soul—and this is the subject of these
stanzas—when transformed, and glowing interiorly in the fire
of love, is not only united with the Divine fire, but becomes
a living flame, and itself conscious of it. The soul speaks of
this with an intimate delicious sweetness of love, burning in
its own flame, and ponders over various marvellous effects
wrought within it. These effects I now proceed to describe,
following the same method: that is, I shall first transcribe
the four stanzas, then each separately, and finally each line
by itself as I explain them.

* S. John xiv. 23.

‘
Bee a’ *,

ly
My soul in its inmost depth !
As Thou art no longer grievous,
Perfect Thy work, if it be Thy. will,
_ Break the web in this sweet encounter.

II
O sweet burn !

O delicious wound !

O tender hand! O gentle touch !

Savouring of everlasting life,

And paying the whole debt,

In destroying death Thou hast changed it into life.

m1
O Lamps of fire, .
In whose splendours
The deep caverns of sense,
Obscure and dark,
With unwonted brightness
Give light and heat together to the Beloved.

Iv
How gently and how lovingly
Thou liest awake in my bosom,
Where alone Thou secretly dwellest ;
And in Thy sweet breathing
Full of grace and glory,

How tenderly Thou fillest me with Thy love.

EXPLANATION.

The Bride of Christ, feeling herself all on fire in the Divine
union, feeling also that ‘the rivers of living water’ are flow-
ing from her as our Lord hath promised of faithful souls,*
imagines that as she is so vehemently transformed in God, so

* 8. John vii. 38.

STANZA
L

Great value

of acts of

perfect love.

220 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

profoundly possessed by Him, so richly adorned with gifts and
graces, she is near unto bliss, and that a slender veil only
separates her from it. Seeing, too, that the sweet flame of
love burning within her, each time it envelopes her, makes
her as it were glorious with its foretaste of glory, so much so
that whenever it absorbs and surrounds her, it seems to be
admitting her to everlasting Jife, and to rend the veil of
her mortality, she addresses herself, in her great desire, to
this flame, which is the Holy Ghost, and prays Him to destroy
her mortal life in this sweet encounter, and bestow upon her
in reality what He seems about to give, namely, perfect glory,
crying: ‘ O living Flame of love.’

i. *O living Flame of love.—In order to express the
intensity of her feelings, the Bride begins each of these four
stanzas with Oh! or How! terms indicative of deep emotion,
and which, whenever uttered, are signs of interior feelings
beyond the power of language to express. Oh/ is an excla-
mation of strong desire, and of earnest supplication, in the
way of persuasion. The soul employs it in both senses here,
for the Bride magnifies and intimates her great desire, per-
suading her Love, that she might put off her mortal life
entirely. This flame of love is the Spirit of the Bridegroom,
the Holy Ghost, of whose presence within itself the soul is
conscious, not only as fire which consumes it, and transforms
it in sweet love, but as a fire burning within it, sending forth
a flame which bathes it in glory and recreates it with the
refreshment of everlasting life. _ The operation of the Holy
Ghost in a soul transformed in His love, is this: His interior
action within it is to kindle it and set it on fire; this is the
burning of love, in union with which the will loves most
deeply, being now one in love with that flame of fire. And
thus the soul’s acts of love are most precious, and even one
of them more meritorious than many elicited not in the state
of transformation. The transformation in love differs from

-, eae FIRE KINDLES FIRE. 221

as y ’ ‘the flame of love as a habit differs from an act, or as the glowing
fuel from the flames it emits, the flames being the effect of

the fire which is there burning.

Hence then we may say of a soul which is transformed
in love, that its ordinary state is that of the fuel in the midst
of the fire; that the acts of such a soul are the flames which
rise up out of the fire of love, vehement in proportion to
the intensity of the fire of union, and to the rapture and
absorption of the will in the flame of the Holy Ghost; rising
like the Angel who ascended to God in the flame which
consumed the holocaust of Manue.* And as the soul, in its
present condition, cannot elicit these acts without the special
suggestions of the Holy Ghost, all these acts must be Divine,
in so far as the soul is under the influence of God. Hence
then it seems to the soul, as often as the flame breaks forth,
causing it to love sweetly with a heavenly disposition, that
life everlasting, which elevates it upwards to the Divine
operation, is about to be bestowed on it.

This is the language in which God addresses purified and
stainless souls, namely words of fire. ‘Thy word,’ saith the
Psalmist, ‘is a vehement fire.t And ‘are not My words asa
fire? saith the Lord.’t His ‘ words,’ we learn from Himself,
‘are spirit and life;’ § the power and efficacy of which are
felt by such souls as have ears to hear; pure souls full of
love. But those souls whose palate is not healthy, whose
desire is after other things, cannot perceive the spirit and
life of His words. And therefore the more wonderful the
words of the Son of God, the more insipid they are to some
who hear them, because of the impurity in which they live.

Thus, when He announced the doctrine of the Holy
Eucharist, a doctrine full of sweetness and of love, ‘ many of
His disciples went back.’|| If such persons as these have no

* Judg. xiii. 20. + Ps.cxviii.140. Ignitum eloquium tuum vehementer.
} Jerem, xxiii. 29. § 8, John vi. 64. | Ib, vi. 67.

é

:

;

222 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

sTANza taste for the words of God which He speaks inwardly to them,
Why the itisnot to be supposed that all others are like them. 8. Peter
aresweet loved the words of Christ, for he replied, *‘ Lord, to whom shall
we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life.* The woman
of Samaria forgot the water, and ‘ left her waterpot’ f at the
well, because of the sweetness of the words of God.

And now when the soul has drawn so near unto God as to
be transformed in the Flame of love, when the Father and the
Son and the Holy Ghost are in communion with it, is it
anything incredible to say, that it has a foretaste—though
not perfectly, because this life admits not of it—of everlasting
Flame ife in this fire of the Holy Ghost? This is the reason why
7 this Flame is said to be a living flame, not because it is not
always living, but because its effect is to make the soul live
spiritually in God, and to be conscious of such a life, as it
is written, ‘ My heart and my flesh have rejoiced in the living
God.’ { The Psalmist makes use of the word ‘living,’ not
because it was necessary, for God is ever-living, but to show
that the body and the spirit had a lively feeling of God; and
that is rejoicing in the living God. Thus, in this Flame, the
soul has so vivid a sense of God, and a perception of Him so
sweet and delicious, that it cries out: ‘ O living Flame of love!’

ii. ‘ That woundest tenderly.’—That is, Thou touchest me
tenderly in Thy love. For when this Flame of Divine life
wounds the soul with the gentle languishing for the life of
God, it wounds it with so much endearing tenderness, and so
softens it that it melts away in love. The words of the Bride
in the Canticle are now fulfilled in the soul. ‘My soul
melted when He spoke.’§ This is the effect of the words of
God in the soul.

But how can we say that He wounds the soul, when there
is nothing to wound, seeing that it is all consumed in the fire

* S, John vi. 69. +f Ib, iv. 28. f{ Ps, lxxxiii,3. § Cant. y, 6.

ae of love? It is certainly marvellous ; for as fire is never idle,
___ but in continual movement, flashing in one direction, then in
-_ another, so love, the function of which is to wound, so as to
cause love and joy, when it exists in the soul as a living
flame, darts forth its most tender flames of love, causing
_ wounds, exerting joyously all the arts and wiles of love as in
the palace of its nuptials. So Assuerus exhibited his riches,
___ and the glory of his power at ‘the marriage and wedding of
| Esther;’* and so might be fulfilled what Christ hath said
3 _ of Himself: I ‘was delighted every day . .. playing in the
world, and My delights were to be with the children of men, f
| that is io give myself to them. This wounding, therefore,
which is the ‘ playing’ of the Divine wisdom, is the flames
of those tender touches which touch the soul continually,
: touches of the fire of love which is never idle. And of these
. flashings of the fire it is said that they wound the soul in its
| inmost substance.

iii. ‘My soul in its inmost depth.’—The feast of the
Holy Ghost is celebrated in the substance of the soul, which
is inaccessible to the devil, the world, and the flesh; and
therefore the more interior the feast, the more secure, substan-
tial, and delicious is it. For the more interior it is, the purer
it is; and the greater the purity, the greater the abundance,
frequency, and universality of God’s communication of Him-
self; and thus the joy of the soul and spirit is so much the
greater, for it is God Himself Who is the Author of all this,
and the soul doeth nothing of itself, in the sense I shall

_ immediately explain. And inasmuch as the soul cannot
_ work naturally here, nor make any efforts of its own other-
wise than through the bodily senses and by their help—of
which it is in this case completely free, and from which it is
most detached—the work of the soul is solely to receive what

ie

* Esth. ii. 18, t Prov, viii. 30, 31.

i

Festival of
the Holy
Ghost in the
soul,

224 , THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

God communicates, Who only, in the depths of the soul,
without the help of the senses, can influence and direct it,
and operate within it. Thus then all the movements of such
a soul are Divine, and though of God, still they are the soul’s,
because God effects them within it, with itself willing them
and assenting to them.

The expression, ‘ inmost depth,’ implies other depths of
the soul less profound, and it is necessary to consider this.
In the first place the soul, regarded as spirit, has neither
height nor depth of greater or less degree in its own nature,
as bodies have which have bulk. The soul has no parts,
neither is there any difference between its interior and ex-
terior, for it is uniform; it has no depths of greater or less
profundity, nor can one part of it be more enlightened than
another, as is the case with physical bodies, for the whole of
it is enlightened uniformly at once.

Setting aside this signification of depth, material and
measurable, we say that the inmost depth of the soul is there
where its being, power, and the force of its action and move-
ment penetrate, and cannot go further. Thus fire, or a stone,
tend by their natural force to the centre of their sphere, and
cannot go beyond it, or help resting there, unless some
obstacle intervene. Accordingly, when a stone lies on the
ground it is said to be within its centre, because within the
sphere of its active motion, which is the element of earth,
but not in the inmost depth of that centre, the middle of the
earth, because it has still power and force to descend thither,
provided all that hinders it be taken away. So when it shall
have reached the centre of the earth, and is incapable of
further motion of its own, we say of it that it is then in its
inmost or deepest centre.

The centre of the soul is God. When the soul shall have
reached Him, according to its essence, and according to the
power of its operations, it will then have attained to its ulti-.

_ ee

ae GOD THE CENTRE OF THE SOUL. 295

mate and deepest centre in God. This will be when the soul

shall love Him, comprehend Him, and enjoy Him with all its
strength. When, however, the soul has not attained to this
state, though it be in God, Who is the centre of it by
grace and communion with Him, still if it can move further
and is not satisfied, though in the centre, it is not in the
deepest centre, because there is still room for it to advance.

Love unites the soul with God, and the greater its love the Degrees

deeper does it enter into God, and the more is it centred in

Him. According to this way of speaking we may say, that as
the degrees of love, so are the centres, which the soul finds in
God. These are the many mansions of the Father’s house.*
Thus, a soul which has but one degree of love is already in
God, Who is its centre: for one degree of love is sufficient
for our abiding in Him in the state of grace. If we have two
degrees of love we shall then have found another centre, more
interiorly in God ; and if we have three we shall have reached
another and more interior centre still. But if the soul shall
have attained to the highest degree of love, the love of God
will then wound it in its inmost depth or centre ; and the soul
will be transformed and enlightened in the highest degree in
its substance, faculties, and powers, until it shall become most
like unto God. The soul in this state may be compared to
erystal, lucid and pure; the greater the light thrown upon it,
the more luminous it becomes by the concentration thereof,
until at last it seems to be all light, and undistinguishable
from it; it being then so illuminated, and to the utmost
extent, that it seems to be one with the light itself.

The flame wounds the soul in its inmost depth ; that is, it
wounds it when it touches the very depths of its substance,
power and force. This expression implies that abundance of
joy and glory, which is the greater and the more tender, the

* S. John xiv. 2.
VOL. U. Q

sunlight.

sie 0

All blessings
contained

in supreme
love for God,

226 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

more vehemently and substantially the soul is transformed
and centred in God. It greatly surpasses that which occurs
in the ordinary union of love, for it is in proportion to the
greater heat of the fire of love which now emits the living
flame. The soul which has the fruition only of the ordinary
union of love may be compared, in a certain sense, to the
‘fire’ of God which is in Sion, that is in the Church Militant;
while the soul which has the fruition of glory so sweet may

be compared to ‘His furnace in Jerusalem,’* which means

the vision of peace. The soul in the burning furnace is in a
more peaceful, glorious, and tender union, the more the flame
of the furnace transcends the fire of ordinary love. Thus the
soul, feeling that the living flame ministers to it all good
— the Divine love brings all blessings with it — cries out:
*O living flame of love, that woundest tenderly.’ The ery of
the soul is: O kindling burning love, how tenderly dost thou
make me glorious by thy loving motions in my greatest power
and strength, giving me a Divine intelligence according to
the capacity of my understanding, and communicating love
according to the utmost freedom of my will; that is, thou hast
elevated to the greatest height, by the Divine intelligence, the
powers of my understanding in the most intense fervour and
substantial union of my will. This ineffable effect then takes
place when this flame of fire rushes upwards in the soul.
The Divine wisdom absorbs the soul— which is now puri-
fied and most clean — profoundly and sublimely in itself;
for ‘ Wisdom reacheth everywhere by reason of her purity.’ f
It is in this absorption of wisdom that the Holy Ghost
effects those glorious quiverings of His flame of which
I am speaking. And as the flame is so sweet, the soul says:
‘ As thou art no longer grievous.’

iv. ‘As thou art no longer grievous.’ Thou dost not

* Is, xxxi. 9, + Wiad. vii. 24,

al | oo nor vex, nor weary me as before. This flame, when
ie the soul was in the state of spiritual purgation, that is, when
it was entering that of contemplation, was not so peaceful and

sweet as it is now in the state of union. For before the
Divine fire enters into the soul and unites itself to it in its
inmost depth by the perfect purgation and purity thereof, the
flame wounds it, destroys and consumes the imperfections of
its evil habits. This is the work of the Holy Ghost, who

\ “thereby disposes the soul for its Divine union and transfor- “’

mation in God by love. For the flame which afterwards unites
itself to the soul in the glory of love, is the very same which

before enveloped and purified it ; just as the fire which ulti-

mately penetrates the substance of the fuel, is the very same
which in the beginning darted its flames around it, playing
about it, and depriving it of its coldness until it prepared it
with its heat for its own entrance into it, and transformation

of it into itself.

The soul suffers much in this spiritual exercise, and endures
aha afflictions of spirit which occasionally overflow into
senses ; for then the flame is felt to be grievous. As I have
described it in the Treatise of the Obscure Night, and in that
of the Ascent of Mount Carmel, I shall therefore not pursue
the subject further. It is enough for us to know that God,
Who seeks to enter the soul by union and the transformation
of love, is He who previously enveloped the soul, purifying
it with the light and heat of His Divine Flame, which was
before grievous but is now sweet. The meaning of the whole
is as follows: Thou art now not only not obscure as before,
but the Divine light of my intellect wherewith I behold Thee:
not only dost Thou abstain from causing me to faint in my
weakness, but Thou art become the strength of my will,
wherein I can love and enjoy Thee, being wholly changed
into Divine love. Thou art no longer grief and affliction, but
rather my glory, my delight, and my liberty, seeing that I
e2

STANZA
I.

228 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

may apply to myself the words in the Canticle, ‘ Who is this
that cometh up from the desert flowing with delights leaning
upon her Beloved,’ * scattering love on this side and on that?
‘Perfect Thy work, if it be Thy will.’

v. * Perfect Thy work, if it be Thy will;’ that is, do
Thou perfect the spiritual marriage in the Beatifie Vision.
Though it is true that the soul is the more resigned the
more it is transformed, when it has attained to a state so
high as this is—seeing that it knows nothing and seeks
nothing with a view to itself,f but only in and for the
Beloved, for Charity seeks nothing but the good and glory
of the Beloved—still because it lives in Hope, and Hope
implies a want, it groans deeply, though sweetly and joy-
fully, because it has not fully attained to the perfect adop-
tion of the sons of God, in which, being perfected in glory,
all its desires will be satisfied. However intimate the soul’s
union may be with God, it will never be satisfied here below
till His ‘glory shall appear ;’{ and this is especially the case
because it has already tasted, by anticipation, of its sweetness;
and that sweetness is such that if God had not had pity on its’
natural frailty and covered it with His right hand, as He
did Moses, that he might not die when he saw the glory of
God—for the natural powers of the soul receive comfort and
delight from that right hand, rather than hurt — it would
have died at each vibration of the flame, seeing that the
inferior part thereof is incapable of enduring so great and
so sharp a fire. This desire of the soul is therefore no longer
a painful one, for its condition is now such that all pain
is over, and its prayers are offered for the object it desires
with great sweetness, joy, and resignation. This is the
reason why it says, ‘if it be Thy will,’ for the will and
desire are now so united in God, each in its own way, that

* Cant. viii. 5. + 1 Cor. xiii. 5. t Ps. xvi. 15.

GOD'S WILL THE SOUL’S GLORY. 229

$s . ; Pike soul regards it as its glory that the will of God should be

ij done in it. Such are now the glimpses of glory, and such

_ the love which now shines forth, that it would argue but
little love on its part if it did not pray to be admitted to
this perfect consummation of love.

Moreover, the soul in the power of this sweet communica-
tion, sees that the Holy Ghost incites it, and invites it in
most wonderful ways, and by sweet affections, to this immea-
surable glory, which He there sets before the eyes of the

soul, saying, ‘Arise, make haste, my love, my dove, my

beautiful one, and come. For winter is now past, the rain
is over and gone. The flowers have appeared in our land.

_« + «+ The fig-tree hath put forth her green figs, the vines

in flower yield their sweet smell. Arise, my love, my
beautiful one, and come; my dove in the clefts of the rock,
in the hollow places of the wall, show me thy face, let thy

_ voice sound in my ears, for thy voice is sweet, and thy face
_comely.’* The soul hears all this spoken interiorly to it,

by the Holy Ghost in this sweet and tender flame, and
therefore it is that it replies to Him, saying, ‘ Perfect Thy
work, if it be Thy will.’ This is in effect the two petitions
which our Lord commands us to make, ‘ Thy kingdom come,
Thy will be done;’f that is, give Thy kingdom according to
Thy will. And thus the soul continues, ‘ Break the web in
this sweet encounter.’

vi. ‘ Break the web in this sweet encounter ;’ that is, the
obstacle to this so grand an affair. It is an easy thing to
draw near unto God when all hindrances are set aside, and
when the web that divides us from Him is broken. There
are three webs to be broken before we can have the perfect
fruition of God: 1. The temporal web, which comprises all
created things. 2. The natural web, which comprises all

* Cant, ii, 10-14. 7 8. Matth. vi. 10.

First and
second
broken in
spiritual
purgation ;
third only
by death.

Peaceful
death of the
servants of
God.

a

230 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

mere natural actions and inclinations. 3. The sensitive web,
which is merely the union of soul and body; that is, the
sensitive and animal life, of which 8. Paul speaks, saying,
‘For we know if our earthly house of this habitation be
dissolved, that we have a building of God, a house not made
with hands, eternal in heaven.’*

The first and second web must of necessity have been
broken in order to enter into the fruition of God in the
union of love, when we denied ourselves in worldly things
and renounced them, when our affections and desires were
mortified, and when all our operations became Divine; these
webs were broken in the assaults of this flame when it was
still grievous. In the spiritual purgation the soul breaks
the two webs I am speaking of, and becomes united with
God; the third alone, the web of the sensitive life, remains
now to be broken. This is the reason why but one web is
mentioned here. For now one web alone remains, and this
the flame assails not painfully and grievously as it assailed
the others, but with great sweetness and delight, Thus the
death of such souls is most full of sweetness, beyond that of
their whole spiritual life, for they die of the sweet violence of
love, like the swan which sings more#weetly when death is nigh.

It was the thought of this that made the Psalmist say,
‘ Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints,’ ¢
for then the rivers of the soul’s love flow into the sea of love, —
so wide and deep as to seem a sea in themselves; the beginning
and the end unite together to accompany the just departing for
His kingdom. ‘From the ends of the earth’ are ‘ heard
praises, the glory of the just one,’t and the soul feels itself
in the midst of these glorious encounters on the point of
departing in all abundance for the perfect fruition of the
kingdom, for it beholds itself pure and rich, and prepared,

* 2 Cor. v. 1. Tt Ps. exy. 15. t Is. xxiv. 16,

=

a a

a ‘ 4 / fe
<a
=<
BS
ne

rai

2.

ea ~ ErERNITY suuises THRoveH THE WEB OF LIFE. 231
; $0 far as itis possible for it to be, consistently with faith and

_ the conditions of this life. God now permits such a soul to
behold its own beauty, and intrusts it with the gifts and the
graces He has endowed it with, for all this turns into love
and praise without the least stain of presumption or of
vanity, because no leaven of imperfection remains now to

corrupt it.

When the soul sees that nothing more is wanting than the
breaking of the frail web of its natural life, by which its

_ liberty is enthralled, it prays that it may be broken; for
_ it longs ‘to be dissolved and to be with Christ,’ to burst the

bonds which bind the spirit and the flesh together, that both

may resume their proper state, for they are by nature dif-

ferent, the flesh to ‘return into its earth, and the spirit return
to God who gave it,’* for the mortal body, as 8. John records,
‘ profiteth nothing, t but is rather an impediment to the

@ good of the spirit. The soul, therefore, prays for the dissolu-

a tion of the body, for it is sad that an existence so mean

should be an obstacle in the way of a life so noble.

This life is called a web for three reasons: 1. Because of
the connection between the Spirit and the Flesh. 2, Because
it separates the soul aid God. 3. Because a web is not so
thick but that light penetrates it ; so the connection between
soul and body, in this state of perfection, is so slight a web,
that the Divinity shines through it, now that the soul is so
spiritualised, subtilised, and refined. When the power of the
life to come begins to be felt in the soul, the weakness of this

; _ life becomes evident. Its present life seems to be but a slender

web, even a spider’s web, ‘our years shall be considered as a
spider,’ ¢ and even less than that, when the soul is thus exalted
to so high a state, The soul being thus exalted to the per-
ceptions of God, perceives things as God does, in Whose sight

* Eccles, xii. 7. ¢ 8, John vi. 64. { Ps, lxxxix, 9,

232 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE. |

STANZA ‘a thousand years are as yesterday which is past,’* and before
————_ Whom ‘all nations are as if they had no being at all.’t In
the same way all things appear to the soul as nothing, yea,

itself is nothing in its own eyes, and God alone is its all.
The soul It may be asked here why the soul prays for the breaking
breaking of of the web rather than for its cutting or its removal, since
Fourreasons. the effect would be the same in either case. There are four
reasons which determine it: 1. The expression it employs is
the most proper, because it is more natural that a thing should
be broken in an encounter than that it should be cut or
taken away. 2. Because love is more familiar with force, with
violent and impetuous contacts, and these result in breaking
rather than in cutting or taking away. 3. Because the soul’s
love is so strong, it desires that the act of breaking the web may
be so rapid as to accomplish the work quickly ; and because the
value and energy of love are proportional to its rapidity and
spirituality. For the virtue of love is now more concentrated
and more vigorous, and the perfection of transforming love
enters the soul, as form into matter, in an instant. Until now
no act of perfect transformation had occurred, but only the
disposition towards it in desires and affections successively
repeated, which in very few men attain to the perfect act of
transformation. Hence asoul that is well disposed may there-
fore elicit many more, and more intense acts in a brief period
than another soul not so disposed in a long time. Such a
soul spends all its energies in the preparation of itself, and
even afterwards the fire does not always penetrate the fuel
it has to burn. But when the soul is already prepared, love
enters in continuously, and the spark seizes at the first contact
on the fuel that is dry. And thus the enamoured soul prefers
the abrupt breaking of the web to its tedious cutting or de-
layed removal. 4. The fourth reason why the soul prays for
the breaking of the web of life is that it desires it may be

* Ps. lxxxix, 4. + Is. xl. 17.

L M ,
ja) =<. &

ce
poe - Oe ~ oe SF
_s - ao 7 i é.- oe ar. _

hats a. tf STRONG LOVE MAKES A SHORT LIFE. 233

= Fe See quickly ; for when we cut or remove anything we do it

_ deliberately, when the matter is ripe, and then time and
thought become necessary ; but a violent rupture requires
nothing of the kind. The soul’s desire is not to wait for the
natural termination of its mortal life, because the violence of
its love and the disposition it is in incline it with resignation
towards the violent rupture of its natural life in the super-
natural assaults of love. Moreover, it knows well that it is the
way of God to call such souls to Himself before the time, that
He fills them with good, and delivers them from evil, perfect~
ing them in a short space, and bestowing upon them, through
love, what they could have gained only by length of time.
- *He pleased God and was beloved, and living among sinners
he was translated. He was taken away lest wickedness
should alter his understanding, or deceit beguile his soul.
Being made perfect in a short space, he fulfilled a long
time, for his soul pleased God, therefore He hastened to
bring him out of the midst of iniquity..* The constant
practice of love is therefore a matter of the last importance,
for when the soul is perfect therein, its detention here below
cannot be long before it is admitted to see God face to
face. 5

But why is this interior assault of the Holy Ghost called
an encounter? Though the soul is very desirous to see the
end of its natural life, yet because the time is not yet come
that cannot be, and so God, to make it perfect and to raise
it above the flesh more and more, assails it divinely and
gloriously, and these assaults are really encounters wherein
God penetrates the soul, deifies the very substance of it, and
renders it as it were divine. The substance of God absorbs
the soul, because He assails and penetrates it in a lively
manner by the Holy Ghost, whose communications are
vehement when they are of fire as at present. This encounter

* Wiad. iv. 10-14,

c

£
i

STANZA

234 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE,

is called sweet, because the soul has therein a lively taste
of God; not that many other touches and encounters of
God, of which the soul is now the object, cease to be sweet
and delicious, but on account of the supereminent sweetness
of this; for God effects it with a view to the perfect dissolu-
tion of the soul and its final glory. Hence the soul relying
on His protection becomes bold, and says, ‘ Break the web in
this sweet encounter.’

The whole stanza may be paraphrased as follows: — O fire
of the Holy Ghost, penetrating so profoundly and so tenderly
the very substance of my soul, and burning it with Thy flames,
since Thou art now so gentle as to manifest Thy desire of
giving Thyself to me in everlasting life; if formerly my
petitions did not reach Thine ears, when weary and worn
with love, overcome through the weakness of sense and spirit,
because of my infirmities, impurity, and little love, I prayed
to be dissolved—for with desire hath my soul desired Thee—
when my impatient love would not suffer me to submit to
the conditions of this life according to Thy will — for it was
Thy will that I should live—and when the previous impulses
of my love were insufficient in Thy sight, because-there was
no substance in them; now that I am grown strong in love,
that body and soul together do not only follow after Thee, but
that my heart and my flesh rejoice in the living God* with one
consent, so that I am praying for that which Thou willest I
should pray for, and what Thou willest not, that I pray not
for—it seems even that I could not do it, neither does it
enter into my mind to do so—and as my prayers are now
more efficacious and more reasonable in Thy sight, for they
proceed from Thee, and Thou willest I should so pray,
and as I pray in the joy and sweetness of the Holy Ghost,
and ‘my judgment cometh forth from Thy countenance,’ f
when Thou art pleased with my prayer and hearkenest to it—

* Ps. Ixxxiii. 2. + Ps. xvi. 2,

vienna SON, AND HOLY auosr. 235

e. 3 ‘Break Thou the slender web of this life that I may be enabled Line
___ to love Thee hereafter with that fulness and abundance which
Ye _. my soul desires, without end for evermore.

O tender hand! O gentle toueh!

Savouring of everlasting life,

And paying the whole debt,

In destroying death Thou hast changed it into life.

EXPLANATION.

We learn here that it is the Three Persons of the Most Holy Work of the
Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, Who accomplish the 7rinity in
Divine work of union. The ‘hand,’ the ‘touch,’ and the
‘burn’ are in substance one and the same; and the three
terms are employed because they express the effects which
are peculiar to each. The ‘burn’ is the Holy Ghost; the
*hand’ is the Father; and the ‘ touch’ is the Son. Here the
soul magnifies the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, ex-
tolling those three grand gifts and graces which They perfect
within it, in that They have changed death into life, trans-
forming it into Themselves.

The first of these gifts is the delicious wound, which is Three
attributed to the Holy Ghost, and for this the soul calls Him recived ty”
the ‘burn.’ The second is the ‘taste of everlasting life,’
attributed to the Son, on account of which He is called the
‘gentle touch.’ The third is that ‘ gift’ which is the perfect
recompense of the soul, attributed to the Father, Who is
therefore called the ‘tender hand.’ Though the Three
Persons of the Most Holy Trinity are referred to severally,
because of the peculiar operations of Each, the soul is address-
ing itself to but One Essence, saying, ‘ Thou hast changed it
into life,’ for the Three Divine Persons work together, and
the whole is attributed to Each, and to All.

*Peramorem
suaviter

236 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

i, £O sweet burn.’ ‘The Lord thy God,’ saith Moses, ‘ is
a consuming fire,’ * that is, a fire of love. And as His power
is infinite, He consumes infinitely, burning with great
vehemence, and transforming into Himself all He touches.
But He burns all according to the measure of their prepara-
tion, some more, others less; and also according to His own
good pleasure, as, and when, and how, He will. And as the
fire of love is infinite, so when God touches the soul some-
what sharply, the burning heat within it becomes so extreme
as to surpass in its intensity all the fires of the world. This
is the reason why this touch of God is said to be a ‘ burn:’
for the fire there is more intense, and more concentrated, and
the effect of it surpasses that of all other fires. When the
Divine fire shall have transformed the soul into itself, the
soul feels not only the burn, but also that itself has become

wholly and entirely burnt up in this vehement fire. O how —
wonderful the fire of God! though so vehement and so con- _

suming, though it can destroy a thousand worlds with more ~

ease than the material fire can destroy a single straw, it con-
sumes not the spirit wherein it burns, but rather, in proportion
to its strength and heat, delights and deifies it, burning
sweetly within according to the strength which God has given.
Thus, on the day of Pentecost the fire descended with great
vehemence upon the Apostles, who, according to 8. Gregory,f
sweetly burned interiorly. The Church also says, when cele-
brating that event: ‘The Divine fire came down, not consuming
but enlightening.’} For as the object of these communications
is to elevate the soul, the burning of the fire does not distress
it but cheers it, does not weary it but delights it, and renders
it glorious and rich. This is the reason why it is said to
be sweet. |

Thus then the blessed soul, which by the mercy of God

* Deut. iv. 24. t+ Hom. 30,in Evangel. f{ Brey. Rom. 2 die Pent.

== HEALTH GREATEST WHEN WOUND DEEPEST. 237

3 a has been burnt, knoweth all things, tasteth all things, * what-

soever it shall do shall prosper,’* against it nothing shall
prevail, nothing shall touch it. It is to such a soul that the
Apostle referred when he said: ‘The spiritual man judgeth
all things, and he himself is judged of no man,’ f for ‘ The
Spirit searcheth all things, yea, the deep things of God,’ ¢ be-
cause it belongs to love to search into all that the Beloved has.

O great glory of souls who are worthy of this Supreme fire,
which having infinite power to consume and annihilate you,
consumes you not, but makes you infinitely perfect in glory!
Wonder not that God should elevate some souls to so high a
degree, for He alone is wonderful in His marvellous works.
As this burn then is so sweet—as it is here said to be—how
happy must that soul be which this fire has touched! The
soul, anxious to express its joy, cannot do it, so it rests satis-
fied with words of endearment and esteem, saying: ‘O delicious
wound.’

ii. §O delicious wound,’ which He Who causes relieves,
and heals while He inflicts it. It bears some resemblance to
the caustic usage of natural fire, which when applied to a
wound increases it, and renders a wound, which iron or other
instruments occasioned, a wound of fire. The longer the
caustic is applied, the more grievous the wound, until the
whole matter be destroyed. Thus the Divine cautery of love
heals the wound which love has caused, and by each applica-
tion renders it greater. The healing which love brings is to
wound again what was wounded before, until the soul melts
away in the fire of love. So when the soul shall become
wholly one wound of love it will then be transformed in love,
wounded with love. For herein the soul most wounded is
the most healthy, and he who is all wound is all health.

And yet even if the whole soul be one wound, and conse-

* Ps, i. 3. t 1 Cor. ii, 15. t Tb. 10.

STANZA
Il,

The soul
inflamed in
another
manner,—
how.

238 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

quently sound, the Divine burning is not intermitted; it
continues its work, which is to wound the soul with love. But
then, too, its work is to soothe the healed wound, and thus
the soul cries out, ‘O delicious wound,’ and so much the .
more delicious the more penetrating the fire of love. The
Holy Ghost Himself inflicted the wound that He might
soothe it, and as His will and desire to soothe it are great,
great will be the wound which He will inflict, in order
that the soul He has wounded may be greatly comforted.
O blessed wound inflicted by Him Who cannot but heal it!
O happy and most blessed wound! For thou art inflicted only
for the joy and comfort of the soul. Great is the wound,
because He is great Who has wrought it; and great is the
delight of it: for the fire of love is infinite. O delicious
wound then, and the more delicious the more the cautery of
love penetrates the inmost substance of the soul, burning all
it can burn that it may supply all the delight it can give.
This burning and wound, in my opinion, are the highest
condition attainable in this life. There are many other
forms of this burning, but they do not reach so far, neither
are they like unto this: for this is the touch of the Divinity
without form or figure, either natural, formal, or imaginary.
But the soul is burned in another and a most excellent way,
which is this: When a soul is on fire with love—though not
in the same degree with the soul of which I have been now
speaking, though it is expedient it should be so, that it may
be the subject of this—it will feel as if a Seraph with a
burning brand of love had struck it, and penetrated it
already on fire as glowing coal, or rather as a flame, and
cauterised it all at once. And then in that act of cauterising
the flame rushes forth and surges vehemently, as in a glowing
furnace or forge the fire revives and the flame ascends when
the burning fuel is disturbed. At this time when the burn-
ing brand touches it, the soul feels that the wound it has

NN eS OE——EEEE le
*

Que SERAPH'S DART OF FIRE, 239

‘ics received is delicious beyond all imagination. For

besides being altogether moved and stirred, at the time of
this stirring of the fire, by the vehement movement of the
Seraph, wherein the ardour and the melting of love is great,
it feels that its wound is perfect, and that the herbs which
serve to attemper the steel are efficacious; it feels the very
depths of the spirit transpierced, and its delight to be exquisite
beyond the power of language to express. The soul feels, as
it were, a most minute grain of mustard seed, most pungent
and burning in the inmost heart—in the spot of the wound,
where the substance and the power of the herb reside—
diffuse itself most subtilely through all the spiritual veins of
the soul in proportion to the strength and power of the heat.
It feels its love to grow, strengthen, and refine itself to such
a degree, as to seem to itself to be seas of fire overflowing
with love. |

The feelings of the soul, at this time, cannot be described
otherwise than by saying that it now understands why the

kingdom of Heaven is compared to a mustard seed, which *—W*¥

by reason of its great natural heat grows into a lofty tree.
‘ The kingdom of Heaven is like to a grain of mustard seed,
which a man took and sowed in his field. Which is the
least indeed of all seeds; but when it is grown up, it is
greater than all herbs, and becometh a tree, so that the birds
of the air come and dwell in the branches thereof.* The
soul beholds itself now as one immense sea of fire. Few
souls, however, attain to this state, but some have done so,
especially those whose spirit and power is to be transmitted
to their spiritual children; since God bestows on the Founder
such gifts and graces, as shall be proportionate to the succes-
sion of the Order, as the first-fruits of the Spirit.

To return to the operation of the Seraph, which in truth

* S. Matth, xiii, 81, 82

Union of

240 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

is to wound. If the effect of the wound be permitted to flow

exteriorly into the bodily senses, an effect corresponding to

the interior wound itself will manifest itself without. Thus
it was with S. Francis, for when the Seraph wounded
his soul with love, the effects of that wound became out-
wardly visible. God confers no favours on the body which
He does not confer in the first place chiefly on the soul. In
that case, the greater the joy and violence of the love which
is the cause of the interior wound, the greater will be the
pain of the visible wound, and as the former grows so does
the latter. The reason is this: such souls as these being
already purified and strong in God, their spirit, strong and
sound, delights in the strong and sweet Spirit of God; Who,
however, causes pain and suffering in their weak and corrup-
tible flesh. It is thus a most marvellous thing to feel pain
and sweetness together. Job felt it when he said, ‘ Return-
ing, Thou tormentest me wonderfully.’* This is marvellous,
worthy of the multitude of the sweetness of God, which He
has hidden for them that fear Him;f the greater the sweet-
ness and delight, the greater the pain and suffering.

O Infinite greatness, in all things showing Thyself Omni-

_ potent. Who, O Lord, can cause sweetness in the midst

of bitterness, and pleasure in the midst of pain? O delicious
wound, the greater the delight the deeper the wound. But
when the wound is within the soul, and not communicated
to the body without, it is then much more intense and keen.
As the flesh is a bridle to the spirit, so, when the graces of
the latter overflow into the former, the flesh draws in and
restrains the swift steed of the spirit and checks its course;
‘for the corruptible body is a load upon the soul, and the
earthly habitation presseth down the mind that museth upon
many things.’{ He, therefore, who shall trust too much to

~ * Job x. 16. t Ps, xxx. 20. t Wisd., ix. 15.

‘s

Pr

TF sien
? ae

ie © ee bodily senses will never become a very spiritual man. I

oS say this for the sake of those who think they can ascend to
____ the heights and power of the spirit, by the mere energy and

action of the senses, which are mean and vile. We cannot
become spiritual unless the bodily senses be restrained. It
is a state of things wholly different from this, when the
spirit overflows into the ‘senses, for there may be great
spirituality in this; as in the case of 8. Paul, whose deep
sense of the sufferings of Christ overflowed into his body, so
that he said: ‘I bear the marks of the Lord Jesus in my
body.’* Thus, as the wound and the burn, so the hand that
inflicted it; and as the touch, so He who touched. O tender
hand, O gentle touch.

iii. ‘O tender hand, O gentle touch.’ O hand, as generous
as Thou art powerful and rich, giving me gifts with power.
O gentle hand! laid so gently upon me, and yet, if Thou

____wert to press at all, the whole world must perish; for only

at the sight of Thee the earth trembles,f the nations melt,
and the mountains are crushed in pieces.~ O gentle hand,
Thou wert hard and heavy when Thou didst touch Job,§
but to me, gentle, loving, and gracious; as sweet and gentle
to me as Thou wert sharp and rough for him; the tenderness
with which Thou touchest me surpasses the severity with
which Thou didst touch Job. Thou killest and Thou givest
life, and there is no one who shall escape out of Thy hand.
But Thou, O Divine Life, never killest but to give life, as

Thou never woundest but to heal. Thou hast wounded me,
Divine hand! that Thou mayest heal me. Thou hast slain
in me that which made me dead, and destitute of the life
of God which I now live. This Thou hast wrought in the
liberality of Thy bountiful grace, through that touch, where-
with Thou dost touch me, of the brightness of Thy glory

* Galat. vi. 17. ¢ Ps. ciii. 32. { Habac. iii. 6. § Job xix. 21.
VOL. I. R

242 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

and the figure of Thy substance,* Thine only begotten Son, —
in Whom, being Thy Wisdom, Thou reachest ‘from end to
end mightily.’ f

O gentle, subtile touch, the Word, the Son of God, Who,
because of the pureness of Thy Divine nature, dost penetrate
subtilely the very substance of my soul, and touching it gently
absorbest it wholly in Divine ways of sweetness not ‘ heard of
in the land of Chanaan,’ nor ‘seen in Teman.’{ O touch of
the Word, so gentle, so wonderfully gentle to me; and yet Thou
wert ‘ overthrowing the mountains, and breaking the rocks in
pieces’ in Horeb, by the shadow of Thy power going before
Thee, when Thou didst announce Thy presence to the
Prophet in ‘the whistling of a gentle air.’§ O gentle air,
how is it that Thou touchest so gently when Thou art so
terrible and so strong? O blessed soul, most blessed, which
Thou, who art so terrible and so strong, touchest so gently.
Proclaim it to the world, O my soul—no, proclaim it not, for
the world knoweth not the ‘gentle air,’ neither will it listen
to it, because it cannot comprehend matters so deep.

O my God and my life, they shall know Thee] and behold
Thee when Thou touchest them, who, making themselves
strangers upon earth, shall purify themselves, because purity
corresponds with purity. Thou the more gently touchest,
the more Thou art hidden in the purified soul of those
who have made themselves strangers here, hidden from
the face of all creatures, and whom ‘ Thou shalt hide in the
secret of Thy face from the disturbance of men.’ 0, again
and again, gentle touch, which by the power of thy subtility
undoest the soul, removest it far away from every other
touch whatever, and makest it Thine own; Thou which
leayest behind Thee effects and impressions so pure, that the

* Heb. i. 8. + Wied. viii. 1. t Bar. iii, 22,
§ 3 Kings xix. 11,12. | S. John xiv. 17, 4] Ps. xxx. 21.

ee mh Srl OO TCT
‘ ¥ » ~~

SUBSTANTIAL TOUCH OF GOD. 243

rt oo of everything else seems vile and low, the very sight

offensive, and all relations therewith a deep affliction. The
more subtile any matter is, the more it spreads and fills, and
the more it diffuses itself the more subtile is it. O gentle
touch, the more subtile the more infused. And now the
vessel of my soul, because Thou hast touched it, is pure and
clean and able to receive Thee. O gentle touch! as in Thee
there is nothing material, so the more profoundly dost Thou
touch me, changing what in me is human into Divine,
according as Thy Divine essence, wherewith Thou touchest
me, is wholly unaffected by modes and manner, free from the
husks of form and figure. Finally then, O gentle touch, O
most gentle, for Thou touchest me with Thy most simple and
pure essence, which being infinite is infinitely gentle; there-
fore it is that this touch is so subtile, so loving, so surpassing,
and so delicious.

iv. ‘Savouring of sieitiating life’ What the soul tastes
now in this touch of God, is, in truth, though not perfectly,
a certain foretaste of everlasting life. It is not incredible

_ that it should be so when we believe, as we do believe, that

this touch is substantial, and that the substance of God
touches the substance of the soul. Many Saints have expe-
rienced it in this life. The sweetness of delight which this
touch occasions baffles all description. Neither will I speak
of it, lest men should suppose that it is nothing beyond what
my words imply, for there are no terms by which we can
designate or explain the deep things of God transacted in
perfect souls. The language that befits these things is this:
Let him who has been favoured with them judge of them by
himself, feel them and enjoy them, and be silent about them.
For the soul sees that they are in some measure like the
white counter of which it is written, ‘To him that over-
cometh I will give . . . a white counter, and in the counter
a new name written, which no man knoweth but he that
n2

244 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

receiveth it.’* Thus it may be truly said, ‘savouring of

— everlasting life.’ For though the fruition of it is not perfect
lasting

in this life as it will be in glory; nevertheless, the touch,
being of God, savoureth of everlasting life, and the soul
tastes in a marvellous manner, and by participation, of all the
things of God—fortitude, wisdom, love, beauty, grace, and
goodness being communicated unto it.

Now as God is all this, the soul tastes of all in one single
touch of God in a certain eminent way. And by reason of
this great good which is bestowed upon the soul, some of
the unction of the Spirit overflows at times into the body
itself, penetrating into the very bones, as it is written, ‘ All
my bones shall say: Lord, who is like unto Thee?’ But as
all I can say on the subject must be defective, it is enough
to repeat, ‘savouring of everlasting life.’

v. ‘And paying the whole debt.’ But what debt is it to
which the soul here refers, and which it declares to be paid
or satisfied? It is this: those souls which attain to this
high estate, to the kingdom of the spiritual betrothal, have
in general passed through many tribulations and trials, because
that ‘through many tribulations we must enter into the
kingdom of God.’t And these tribulations are now passed.

What they have to suffer who are to attain unto union
with God, are divers afflictions and temptatioris of sense,
trials, tribulations, temptations, darkness, and distress of
mind, so that both the flesh and the spirit may be purified
together, as I said in my Treatise of the Ascent of Mount
Carmel, and of the Obscure Night. The reason of this is
that the joy and knowledge of God cannot be established in
the soul, if the flesh and spirit are not perfectly purified and
refined, and as trials and penances purify and refine the
senses, as tribulations, temptations, darkness, and distress

* Apoc. ii. 177 = ¢ Ps. xxxiv.10, $ Acts xiv, 21.

ie

- refine and prepare the spirit, so they must undergo them who
__-would be transformed in God—as the souls in Purgatory who

through that trial attain to the Beatific vision—some more
intensely than others, some for a longer, others for a shorter
time, according to those degrees of union to which God
intends to raise them, and according to their need of puri-
fication. | )

It is by these trials to which God subjects the spirit and
the flesh that the soul acquires virtues and fortitude and
perfection, in bitterness, as the Apostle writes, ‘Power is
made perfect in infirmity ;’* for virtue is made perfect in
weakness, and refined in the contest of the passions. Iron
cannot be fashioned according to the pattern of the artificer
but through the instrumentality of fire and the hammer,
and during the process its previous condition is injured.
This is the way of God’s teaching, as the Prophet says,
‘From above He hath sent fire into my bones and hath
chastised me.’f He speaks of the hammer also when he
saith, ‘ Thou hast chastised me, and I was instructed.’{ So,
too, the Wise Man asks, ‘He that hath not been tried, what
manner of things doth he know ?’§

Here comes the question why is it that so few ever attain
to this state? The reason is that, in this marvellous work
which God Himself begins, so many are weak, shrinking
from trouble, and unwilling to endure the least discomfort or
mortification, or to labour with constant patience. Hence
it is that God, not finding them diligent in cultivating the
graces He has given them when He began to try them, pro-
ceeds no further with their purification, neither does He lift
them up out of the dust of the earth, because it required

greater courage and resolution for this than they possessed.
Thus it may be said to those who desire to advance, but who

* 2 Cor. xii. 9, + Lam.i. 13. { Jerem. xxxi. 18, § Ecclus, xxxiy, 11.

Few attain to
Perfection,—»

246 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

will not submit to these lesser afflictions nor consent to be
exposed to them, in the words of the Prophet, ‘If thou hast
been wearied with running with footmen, how canst thou
contend with horses? and if thou hast been secure in a land
of peace, what wilt thou do in the swelling of the Jordan ?’*
That is, if the ordinary trials of human life to which all men
living are liable are too heavy for thee, and a burden which
thou canst not carry, how art thou to ‘ contend with horses?’
that is, how canst thou venture out of the common trials of
life upon others of greater violence and swiftness? If thou
hast been unwilling to make war against the peace and
pleasures of the earth, thine own sensuality, but rather
seekest comfort and tranquillity on it, what wilt thou do in
the swelling of the Jordan? that is, how wilt thou stand
against the rushing waters of tribulations and spiritual trials
to which the interior life is subject ?

O souls that seek your own ease and comfort, if you knew
how necessary for this high estate is suffering, and how pro-
fitable suffering and mortification are with reference to these
great blessings, you would never seek for comfort anywhere,
but you would rather take up the cross with the vinegar and
the gall, and would count it an inestimable favour, knowing
that by thus dying to the world and to your own selves, you
are about to live to God in spiritual joy; you would suffer
your exterior afflictions so as to merit at the hands of God,
that He should look upon you, and cleanse and purify you
more and more in these spiritual tribulations. They whom
He thus blesses must have served Him well and long, must
have been patient and persevering, and their life must have
been pleasing in His sight. The Angel said unto Tobias,
‘Because thou wast acceptable to God, it was necessary that
temptation should prove thee.’f Tobias was acceptable to

* Jerem. xii. 5. + Tob, xii. 13.

Os gt ee ee Fe ee
ty ie ~_et
ae | a ; =
4 s -
=
—

THE CROSS, THE WAY TO GOD. 247

3 Sime God, therefore He tried him: He gave him the grace of

tribulation, the source of greater graces still, and it is written
of him that ‘ the rest of his life was in joy.’*

The same truth is exemplified in the life of Job. God
acknowledged him as His faithful servant in the presence of
the angels good and evil, and immediately sent him heavy
trials, that He might afterwards raise him higher, as He did
both in temporal and in spiritual things.t

This is the way God deals with those whom it is His will

to exalt. He suffers them to be tempted, afflicted, tormented,

and chastened, inwardly and outwardly to the utmost limit of
their capacity, that He may deify them, unite them to Him-
self in His wisdom, which is the highest state, purifying them
in that wisdom, as it is written, ‘The words of the Lord are
pure words, silver tried by the fire, purged from the earth,
refined seven times.’{ The wisdom of the Lord is silver tried
by the fire, purged from the earth of our flesh, refined seven
times, that is perfectly refined.

It is not necessary I should stop here to speak of each of
these degrees of purgation, and how they tend to bring the
soul to the Divine Wisdom, which in this life is as silver,
for though it becomes exceedingly grand, yet it is not com-
parable to that of pure gold, which is reserved for everlasting
glory.

But it is most necessary that we should endure these
tribulations and trials, inward and outward, spiritual and
corporal, great and small, with great resolution and patience,
accepting all as from the hand of God for our healing and our
good, not shrinking from them, because they are for the health
of our soul. ‘If the spirit of him that hath power,’ saith the
Wise Man, ‘ ascend upon thee, leave not thy place, because
care ’—that is healing—*‘ will make the greatest sins to cease.’ §

* Tob, xiv. 4. + Job i. 8-20; alii, 12, j Pa. xi 7. § Eccles. x. 4.

LINE
v.

Tribulation

a great grace,
—its good
effects,

STANZA
I.

Tilustration
life of

248 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

‘Leave not thy place,’ that is the place of thy trial, which is
thy troubles ; for the healing which they bring will break the
thread of thy sins and imperfections, evil habits, so that
they shall proceed no further. Thus, interior trials and
tribulations destroy and purge away the imperfect and evil
habits of the soul. We are, therefore, to count it a great
favour when our Lord sends us interior and exterior trials,
remembering that they are few in number who deserve to be
made perfect through sufferings, so as to attain to so high a
state as this.

I now return to the explanation of the words before me.
The soul now remembers that its past afflictions are suf-
ficiently recompensed, for as was its darkness so is its light,*
and that having once been ‘a partaker of the sufferings,’ it is _
now ‘of the consolation,’ + that its interior and exterior trials
have been recompensed by the Divine mercies, none of them
being without its corresponding reward. It therefore acknow-
ledges itself perfectly satisfied, and says, ‘ paying the whole
debt,’ with David in the like circumstances: *‘ How great
troubles hast Thou shown me, many and grievous, and turning
Thou hast brought me to life, and hast brought me back
again from the depths of the earth. Thou hast multiplied
Thy magnificence, and turning to me Thou hast comforted
me.’t Thus the soul which once stood without at the gates
of the palace of God, like Mardochai weeping in the streets
of Susan because his life was threatened, clothed with sack-
cloth and refusing the garments which Esther sent him,
unrewarded for his faithful service in defending the king’s
honour and life,§ finds, also, like Mardochai, all its trials
and service rewarded in one day. It is not only admitted
within the palace and stands before the king in its royal
robes, but it has also a diadem on its head, and in its hand a

* Ps, cxxxviii. 12, + 2 Cor.i.7. { Ps, lxx. 20, § Esth. iv. 1-6.

2 oy Satie a

ah DEATH CH. LIFE. 249
ale - c

‘“ a

fd :

__ seeptre, sitting on the royal throne with the king’s signet on its

finger, symbols of its power in the kingdom of the Spouse.

pm For those souls who attain to this high estate obtain all their

desires; the whole debt due to them is amply paid; the
appetites, their enemies which sought their life, are dead,
while they are living to God. ‘In destroying death Thou
hast changed it into life.’ |

vi. ‘ In destroying death Thou hast changed it into life.’—
Death is nothing else but the privation of life, for when life
cometh there is no trace of death in that which is spiritual.

There are two kinds of life, one beatific, consisting in the 1.

Vision of God, and this must be preceded by a natural and
bodily death, as it is written, ‘We know if our earthly house
of this habitation be dissolved, that we have a building of
God, a house not made with hands, eternal in heaven:’*
the other is the perfect spiritual life, consisting in the
possession of God by the union of love. Men attain to this
through the mortification of their evil habits and desires.
Until this be done, the perfection of the spiritual life of
union with God is unattainable, ‘ For, if you live according
to the flesh, you shall die: but if by the spirit you mortify
the deeds of the flesh, you shall live.’ t

By ‘death’ is meant here the old man, that is the employ-
ment of our faculties, memory, intellect, and will, upon the
things of this world, and the wasting of our desires upon

__ ereated things. ‘All this is our old life, the death of the new

life which is all spiritual. The soul cannot live this life
perfectly unless the old man be perfectly dead, for so the
Apostle teaches, when he bids us ‘ put off according to
former conversation, the old man . . . and put on the
new man, who, according to God, is created in justice and
holiness of truth.’{ In this new life, when it shall have

* 2 Cor. v. 1. + Rom. viii. 18. t Ephes. iv. 22, 24.

f

2. Perfect
union
God by

35

Sr

250 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE,

attained to perfect union with God, all the affections of the
soul, its powers, and its acts, in themselves imperfect and
vile, become as it were Divine. And as everything that
lives, to use the expression of philosophers, lives in its acts,
so the soul, having its acts in God by virtue of its union
with Him, lives the life of God, its death being changed into
life.

This is so, because the intellect, which, previous to its
union with God, understood but dimly by means of its
natural light, is now under the influence and direction of
another principle, and of a higher illumination of God. The
will, which previously loved but weakly, is now changed into
the life of Divine Love, for now it loves deeply with the
affections of Divine Love, moved by the Holy Ghost in whom
it now lives. The memory, which once saw nothing but
the forms and figures of created things, is now changed,
and keeps in ‘mind the eternal years.’* The desire, which
previously longed for created food, now tastes and relishes the
food that is Divine, influenced by another and more efficacious
principle, the sweetness of God. Finally, all the motions
and acts of the soul, proceeding from the principle of its
natural and imperfect life, are now changed in this union
with God into motions Divine, For the soul, as the true
child of God, is moved by the Spirit of God, as it is written,
‘ Whosoever are led by the Spirit of God, they are the sons
of God.’t The substance of the soul, though it is not the
substance of God, because inconvertible into Him, yet being
united to Him and absorbed in Him, is by participation God.
This is accomplished in the perfect state of the spiritual life,
but not so perfectly as in the other; hence is it well said:
‘In destroying death Thou hast changed it into life.’

The soul, therefore, has reason for saying with 8. Paul,

* Ps. Ixxvi. 6. + Rom. viii. 14,

e SONG OF EVERLASTING JOY AND PRAISE. 251

F eS ive, now not I, but Christ liveth in me.’* What in the
soul is dead and cold, becomes changed into the life of God,
fulfilling the words of the Apostle, ‘ Death is swallowed up in
; victory,’ ¢ and those of the Prophet, ‘O death, I will be thy
death.’ t
| The soul being thus swallowed up of life, detached from
j all secular and temporal things, and delivered from all its
natural deordination, is led into the chamber of the King,
where it rejoices in the Beloved, ‘ remembering His breasts
; more than wine,’ and saying, ‘I am black but beautiful, O ye
daughters of Jerusalem,’§ for my natural blackness is changed
into the beauty of the Heavenly King. O then, the burning
of the fire! infinitely burning above all other fires, O how
infinitely beyond all other fires dost thou burn me, and the
more thou burnest the sweeter thou art to me. ‘0 delicious
wound,’ more delicious to me than all the delights of the
world. ‘*O tender hand,’ infinitely more tender than all
tenderness, and the greater the pressure of it the more
tender it is to me. ‘O gentle touch,’ the gentleness of
which surpasses infinitely all the gentleness and all the
loveliness of created things, sweeter and more delicious than
honey and the honeycomb, because thou savourest of ever-
lasting life; the more profoundly thou dost touch me, the
more I taste it. Thou art infinitely more precious than
gold and precious stones, for thou payest debts which nothing
else can pay, because thou changest admirably death into

‘keeping a perpetual feast with the praises of God in its
mouth, with a new song of joy and love, full of the
knowledge of its high dignity. It sometimes exulteth,
repeating the words of Job, ‘My glory shall always be

>
life.
In this state of life, so perfect, the soul is as it were
* Galat. ii, 20. + 1 Cor. xv. 64. $ Os. xiii, 14. § Cant. i. 3, 4

He

252 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

STANZA renewed,’ and ‘as a palm tree’ I ‘shall multiply my days.’ *
Sorsotthe ©Lhat is, God will not suffer my glory to grow old as before, —
Perfection, and He will multiply my days, that is my merits, unto heaven,

as a palm tree multiplies its branches. What David saith

in the twenty-ninth Psalm, the soul sings interiorly to God,

especially the conclusion thereof, ‘Thou hast turned for me

my mourning into joy: Thou hast cut my sackcloth and hast

compassed me with gladness, to the end that my glory may

sing to Thee, and I may not regret’—-for this state is inac-

cessible to pain—‘ O Lord my God, I will give praise to Thee

for ever.’

Here the soul is so conscious of God’s solicitude to

comfort it, feeling that He is Himself encouraging it with

words so precious, so tender, so endearing; that He is con-

ferring graces upon it, one upon another, so that it seems as

if there were no other soul in the world for Him to comfort,

no other object of His care, but that everything was done for

this one soul alone. This truth is admitted by the bride

in the Canticle when she says, ‘My beloved to me, and I to
him.’ f

STANZA ITI.

O Lamps of fire,

In whose splendours

The deep caverns of sense,

Obscure and dark,

With unwonted brightness

Give light and heat together to the Beloved,

EXPLANATION,

Attentionot | I stand greatly in need of the help of God to enter into

necessary. the deep meaning of this stanza: great attention also is
necessary on the part of the reader, for if he be without
experience of the matter he will find it full of obscurity,
while, on the other hand, it will be clear and full of joy to
him who has had that experience.

.* Job xxix, 18, 20. + Cant, ii, 16,

_ Bridegroom for the great mercies which, in the state of union,
she has received at His hands, for He has bestowed upon her
_ therein a manifold and most profound knowledge of Himself,
which enlightens the powers and senses of the soul, and fills
them with love. These powers, previous to the state of union,
were in darkness and obscurity, but are now illuminated by
the fires of love and respond thereto, offering that very
light and love to Him who has kindled and inspired them,
when He infused into the soul gifts so Divine. For he who
truly loves is satisfied then when his whole self, all he is, all
he can be, all he has, and all he can acquire, is spent in the
service of the object of his love; and the greater that service,
the greater is his pleasure in giving it. Such is the joy of
the soul now, because it can shine in the presence of the
Beloved in the splendours with which He has surrounded
it, and love Him with that which He has communicated
to it.

i. ‘O Lamps of fire.— Premising in the first instance that
lamps have two properties, that of giving light, and of burn-
ing, we must keep in mind, if we are to understand this
stanza, that God in His one and simple essence is all the
powers and grandeurs of His attributes. He is omnipotent,
wise, good, merciful, just, strong, loving; He is all the
other attributes of which we have no knowledge here below.
And He being all this, and in union with the soul, when He
is pleased to reveal Himself to it in a special way, the soul
beholds in Him all these powers and grandeurs in the one and
simple Essence, perfectly and profoundly known according
to the conditions of Faith. And as each one attribute is the
very Essence of God, Who is the Father, the Son, and the
Holy Ghost—each attribute of Whom being God Himself—
and as God is infinite light, and infinite Divine Fire, it follows
that He gives light and burns as true God in each one of His

i i i.
>. i
ad . j

+ LE —— ee lrlrl,llmllll OO
i . he

God és all His

Moses on
Mount Sinai
saw some of
the

of God.

254 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

attributes. God therefore, according to this knowledge of
Him in union, is to the soul as many lamps, because it has
the knowledge of each of them, and because they minister to
it the warmth of love, each in its own way, and yet all of one

substance, all one lamp. This lamp is all lamps, because it

gives light, and burns, in all ways.

When the soul reflects upon this, the one lamp is to it as
many lamps, for though but one, it can do all, and involves
all powers and comprehends every spirit. And thus it may
be said that the one lamp shines and burns many ways in
one: it shines and burns as omnipotent, as wise, as good,
ministering to the soul intelligence and love, and revealing
itself unto it, according to the measure of its strength for the
reception of all. The splendour of the lamp as omnipotent
gives to the soul the light and heat of the love of God as
omnipotent, and accordingly God is now the lamp of
Omnipotence to the soul, shining and burning according to
that attribute. The splendour of the lamp as Wisdom pro-
duces the warmth of the love of God as all-wise, and so of
the other attributes; for the light which emanates from
each of the attributes of God and from all, produces in
the soul the fire of the love of God as such. Thus God
is to the soul in these communications and manifestations
of Himself — they are, I think, the highest possible in this
life — as innumerable lamps from which light and love
proceed,

These lamps were seen by Moses on Mount Sinai, where

God passed before Him, and where Moses threw himself.

prostrate on the earth in all haste. He mentions some of
the grandeurs of God which he then beheld, and, loving Him
in them, speaks of them separately in the following words:
*O the Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, patient
and of much compassion, and true, Who keepest mercy
unto thousands; Who takest away iniquity and wickedness

appears that the principal attributes of God which Moses then
recognised and loved were those of omnipotence, dominion,
mercy, justice, and truth. This is a most profound knowledge,
and the deepest delight of love.

It follows from this that the joy and rapture of love commu-
nicated to the soul in the fire of the light of these lamps is ad-
mirable, and immeasurable ; as abundant as from many lamps,
each of which burns with love, the heat of one subserving
that of the other, as the light of one ministers to that of the
other; all of them forming but one light and fire, and each of
them that one fire. The soul, too infinitely absorbed in these
delicate flames, is subtilely wounded by each one of them, and
by all of them more subtilely and more profoundly, in the love
of life ; the soul now sees clearly that this love is everlasting
life which is the union of all blessings, and recognises the
truth of those words, ‘The lamps thereof are fire and flames.’t

If ‘a great and darksome horror seized upon’ Abram as he
saw the ‘lamp of fire passing ’{ before him, when he learned
with what rigorous justice God was about to visit the Amor-
rhites, shall not the lamps of the knowledge of God shining
now sweetly and lovingly produce greater light and joy of
love than that one lamp produced of horror and darkness,
when it passed before Abram? O my soul! how great, how
excellent, and how manifold, will be thy light and joy:
seeing that in all, and by all, thou shalt feel that He gives
thee His own joy and love, loving thee according to His
powers, attributes, and properties. For he who loves and does
good to another honours him and does him good according to
his own nature and qualities. Thus thy Spouse abiding in
thee, being omnipotent, gives Himself to thee, and loves thee
with omnipotence; being wise, with wisdom; being good, with

* Exod. xxxiv. 6,7. t Cant. viii.6. | { Genes. xv. 12, 17.

STANZA
II.

256 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

goodness; being holy, with holiness. And as He is liberal
thou wilt feel also that He loves thee with liberality, without
self-interest, only to do thee good, showing joyfully His
countenance full of grace, and saying: I am thine and for
thee, and it is My pleasure to be what I am, to give Myself
to thee and to be thine.

Who shall then describe thy feeling, O blessed soul,
when thou shalt behold thyself thus beloved, and so highly
honoured? ‘Thy belly is like aheap of wheat set about with
lilies.” * ‘Thy belly,’ that is, thy will, is like a heap of wheat
covered and set about with lilies; for with the grains of wheat
which form the bread of life, and of which thou now art
tasting, the lilies of virtue, which gird thee about, fill thee
with delight. For the daughters of the king, that is the
virtues, will delight thee wondrously with the fragrance of
their aromatical herbs, which are the knowledge of Himself
which He gives thee. Thou wilt be so absorbed in this know-
ledge, and it will be so infused in thee, that thou too shalt be
‘a well of living waters which run with a strong stream from
Libanus,’ f and Libanus is God. Thy joy will now be so
marvellously complete, because the words of the Psalmist
are accomplished in thee: ‘The stream of the river maketh
the city of God joyful.’t

O wonder! The soul is now overflowing with the Divine
waters, which run from it as from an abundant fountain unto
everlasting life.§ It is very true that this communication is
light and fire of the lamps of God, yet the fire is here so
sweet, that though an infinite fire, it is as the waters of life
which satisfy the soul, and quench its thirst with that vehe-
mence for which the spirit longs. Thus, though they are
lamps of fire, they are also the living waters of the spirit.
Those which descended on the Apostles, though lamps of fire,

* Cant. vii. 2. + Cant.iv. 15. tf Ps. xlv.5. §8. John iv. 14

"; " oo, ™ i tt aM

"WATER OP WISDOM THE FIRE OF LOVE. 257

is =, also waters pure and limpid, according to the words of

Ezechiel who thus prophesied the descent of the Holy Ghost :
*I will pour upon you clean water, and put a new spirit
within you.’ * Thus though it be fire, it is water also, a figure of
which we have in the sacrificial fire which Jeremias concealed ,t
which was water in the place of concealment, but fire when it
was brought forth and sprinkled upon the sacrifice.t So in like
manner the Spirit of God, while hidden in the veins of the
soul, is sweet water quenching its spiritual thirst; but when
the soul offers the sacrifice of love the Spirit is then living
flames of fire, and these are the lamps of the acts of love of
which the bride spoke in the Canticle when she said, ‘The
lamps thereof are fire and flames.’§ The soul speaks of them
thus because it has the fruition thereof not only as waters of
wisdom, but also as the fire of Jove in an act of love, saying,
*O Lamps of fire.’ All language now is ineffectual to express
the matter. If we consider that the soul is now transformed
in God, we shall in some measure understand how it is
true that it is also become a fountain of living waters
boiling and bubbling upwards in the fire of love which is
God.

ii. ‘In whose splendours.’ I have already said that these
splendours are the communications of the Divine lamps in
which the soul in union shines forth with all its facul-
ties, memory, intellect, and will, enlightened and united
in this loving knowledge. But we are not to suppose that
the light of these splendours is like that of material fire,
when its flames shine upon and communicate heat to objects
external to it, but rather when it heats what is within it,

_ for the soul is now within these splendours,—‘in whose

splendours.’ That is to say, it is within them, not near them,
within their splendours, in the flames of the lamps, itself

* Ezech. xxxvi. 25,26. + 2 Mac.ii.1. { Ib.i.22. § Cant. viii. 6.
VOL. I. 8

He

i“et 744 a s).
7 ene
’

258 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

STANZA transformed in flame. The soul therefore may be said to

a of
natural

flame,

resemble the air which is burning within the flame and
transformed in fire, for the flame is nothing else but air
inflamed. The flickerings of the flame are not those of air
only or of fire only, but of air and fire together; and the fire
causes the air which is within to burn. It is thus that the
soul with its powers is illuminated in the splendours of God.
The movements of the flame, that is its vibrations and its
flickerings, are not the work of the soul only, transformed in
the fire of the Holy Ghost, nor of the Holy Ghost only, but
of the soul and of the Holy Ghost together Who moves the
soul as the fire moves the air that is burning.

Thus then these motions of God and of the soul together
are as it were the acts of God by which He renders the soul
glorious. For these vibrations and motions are the ‘play-
ing’ and the joyous feasts of the Holy Ghost in the soul,*
in which He seems to be on the point of admitting it into
everlasting life. And thus these movements and quiverings
of the flame are as it were stimulants applied to the soul,
furthering its translation into His perfect glory now that it
is really entered into Him. So also is it with the fire: all
the motions and vibrations to and fro which it causes in the
air burning within it, are the efforts which the fire makes to
ascend to its proper sphere ; and all these quiverings are the
effects of its perseverance in its upward efforts, but they are
all fruitless because the air itself is within its own sphere.
In the same way the motions of the Holy Ghost, though full
of fire and most effectual to absorb the soul in great glory,
do not accomplish their work before the time is come when
it is to sally forth from the sphere of the air of this mortal
life and reach the centre of the spirit, the perfect life in
Christ. These visions of the glory of God, to which the soul

* Stanza 1, line 2, p, 228.

EE —_——_————— = =

OO EE ————————— = =

4
d
%
- *

more perfect and more durable; but it is in the life to come
_ that they will be most perfect, unchanging, and uninterrupted.

There too the soul will see clearly how that God, though here

_ appearing to.move within it, yet in Himself moves not at

all, as the fire moves not in its centre. These splendours are
inestimable graces and favours which God bestows upon the
soul. They are called also overshadowings, and are, in my

opinion, the greatest and the highest graces which can be

bestowed in this life in the way of transformation.

Now overshadowing is the throwing of a shadow; and to
throw one’s shadow over another signifies protection and
favour, for when the shadow of one touches us, it is a sign that
he whose shadow it is stands by us to favour and protect us.
Thus it was said to the Virgin, ‘ The power of the Most High
shall overshadow thee,’* for the Holy Ghost was about to
approach her so closely as to ‘come upon’ her. The shadow
of every object partakes of the nature and proportions of it,
for if the object be dense, the shadow will be dense and
dark ; if it be light and clear, so will be the shadow, as we
see in the case of wood or crystal; the former being dense,
throws a dark shadow, and the latter being clear, throws a
shadow that is light. In spiritual things too, death is the
privation of all things, so the shadow of death will be dark-
ness, Which ina manner deprives us of all things. Thus, too,
speaks the Psalmist, saying, ‘sitting in darkness and the
shadow of death,’t whether the spiritual darkness of spiritual
death, or the bodily darkness of bodily death.

The shadow of life is light ; if Divine, a Divine light, and if
the shadow be human, the light is natural. Thus the shadow
of beauty will be as another beauty according to the nature
and quality of that beauty of which it is the shadow. The

* S. Luke i, 35. + Ps. evi. 10.
s2

The Divine

tl

260 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

STANZA
Itt.

Vision of the
prophet
Ezechiel.

shadow of strength will be another strength, in measure and
proportion. The shadow of wisdom will be another wisdom.
Or rather, beauty, strength, and wisdom themselves will be in
the shadow, wherein is traced the form and property, the
shadow whereof is there. This then being the case, what
must be the shadow of the Holy Ghost, the shadow of all His
power, might, and attributes, when He is so near the soul?
He touches the soul not with His shadow only, for He unites
Himself to it, feeling and tasting with it the form and pro-
perties of God in the shadow of God: that is, feeling and
tasting the property of Divine power in the shadow of
omnipotence; feeling and tasting the Divine wisdom in the
shadow of the Divine wisdom; and finally, tasting the glory of
God in the shadow of glory, which begets the knowledge and
the taste of the property and form of the glory of God. All
this takes place in clear and luminous shadows, because the
attributes and powers of God are lamps, which, being
resplendent and luminous in their own nature, throw forth
shadows resplendent and luminous, and a multitude in one
essence.

O what a vision for the soul when it shall experience the ©

power of that which Ezechiel saw: ‘the likeness of four
living creatures,’ and the ‘ wheel with four faces,’ the appear-
ance ‘ like that of burning coals of fire, and like the appearance
of lamps;’* when it shall behold that. wheel, the wisdom of
God, full of eyes within and without, that is the marvellous
intelligence of wisdom; when it shall hear the noise of their

wings as they pass, a noise ‘ like the noise of an army,’ that is

of many things at once which the soul learns by one sole
sound of God’s passing before it; and finally, when it shall
hear the beating of the wings, which is like the ‘ noise of
many waters, as it were the voice of the Most High God,’ ft

* Ezech., i: 5, 13, 15. + Ib. i. 24,

DEEP CAVERNS OF SPIRITUAL SENSE. 261

_ which signifies the rushing of the Divine waters, at the over-
flowing of which the Holy Ghost envelops the soul in flames
of love. Here the soul rejoices in the glory of God, under
the protection of His shadow, for the Prophet adds: ‘This
was the vision of the likeness of the glory of the Lord.’* O
how high is the condition of this happy soul! O how exalted !
O how it marvels at the visions it has within the limits of
the Faith! Who can describe them ? O how it is profoundly
immersed in these waters of the Divine splendours where the
everlasting Father sends forth the irrigating streams with a
bounteous hand, for these streams penetrate soul and body.

O wonder! the lamps of the Divine attributes though one
in substance are still distinct, each burning as the other, one
being substantially the other. O abyss of delights, and the
more abundant, the more thy riches are gathered together in
infinite simplicity and unity. There the one is so recognised
and felt as not to hinder the feeling and recognition of the
other; yea, rather everything in Thee is light which does not
impede anything ; and by reason of Thy pureness, O Divine
Wisdom, many things are known in Thee in one, for Thou
art the treasury of the everlasting Father, ‘the brightness of
eternal light, the unspotted mirror of God’s majesty, and the
image of His goodness,’ t ‘in Whose splendours,’

iii. § 1. ‘The deep caverns of sense.’ The caverns are the
powers of the soul, memory, intellect, and will, and their depth
is commensurate with their capacity for great good, for nothing
less than the infinite can fill them. What they suffer when
they are empty, shows in some measure the greatness of
their delight when they are full of God; for contraries are
known by contraries. In the first place, it is to be remembered
that these caverns are not conscious of their extreme empti-
ness when they are impure, stained by affections for created

* Exzech. ii. 1. t Wisd. vii. 26.

Hee

STANZA
Itt.

262 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

things. In this life every trifle that enters them is enough to
perplex them, and to render them insensible to their loss, and —
unable to recognise the infinite good which is wanting, or
their own capacity for it. It is assuredly a most wonderful
thing how, notwithstanding their capacity for infinite good,
a mere trifle perplexes them, so that they cannot become the
recipients of that for which they are intended, till they are
completely emptied. But when they are empty, the hunger,
the thirst, and the anxiety of the spiritual sense become in-
tolerable, for as the appetite of these caverns is large, so their
suffering is great, because the food which they need is great,
namely, God. This feeling of pain, so deep, usually occurs
towards the close of the illuminative life and the purgation
of the soul, previous to the state of perfect union during
which it is satisfied. For when the spiritual appetite is
empty, pure from every creature and from every affection
thereto, and when the natural temper is lost and the soul
attempered to the Divine, and the emptied appetite is well
disposed—the Divine communication in the union with God
being still withheld—the pain of this emptiness and thirst
is greater than that of death, especially then when certain
glimpses of the Divine ray are visible, but not communicated.
Souls in this state suffer from impatient love, and they
cannot endure it long without either receiving that which
they desire, or dying.

§ 2. As to the first cavern, which is the intellect, its
emptiness is the thirst after God. So great is this thirst,
that the Psalmist compares it to that of the hart, for he

- knew of none greater, saying, ‘ As the hart panteth after the ©

fountains of waters: so my soul panteth after Thee, O God.’*
This thirst is a thirst for the waters of the Divine Wisdom,
the object of the intellect. The second cavern is the will,

_* Ps, xii. 1.

HEAVEN OR HELL. 263

and the emptiness thereof is a hunger so great after God,
that the soul faints away, ‘My soul longeth and fainteth for
the courts of the Lord.’* This hunger is for the perfection
of love, the object of the soul's desires. The third cavern
is the memory, and the emptiness thereof is the soul’s

melting away and languishing. for the enjoyment of God: 3.

‘I will be mindful and remember, and my soul shall lan-
guish within me: these things I shall think over in my
heart, therefore will I hope.’t Great, then, is the capacity
of these caverns, because that which they are capable of
containing is great and infinite, that is, God. Thus their
capacity is in a certain sense infinite, their hunger and thirst
infinite also, and their languishing and their pain, in their
way, infinite. So when the soul is suffering this pain, though
the pain be not so keen as in the other world, it seems
to be a vivid image of that pain, because the soul is in a
measure prepared to receive that which fills it, the priva-
tion of which is its greatest pain. Nevertheless the suffering
belongs to another condition, for it abides in the depth of
the will’s love; but in this life love does not alleviate the pain,
because the greater it is the greater the soul’s impatience for
the fruition of God, for which it hopes continually with
intense desire.

§ 3. But, O my God, seeing it is certain that he who truly
longs for God is already, as S. Gregory saith,t entered into
possession, how comes it that the soul is in pain? If that

desire which the Angels have to look upon the Son of God§ ““““

is free from pain.and anxiety, because they have the fruition
of Him, it would seem then that the soul also having the
fruition of God in proportion to its desire of Him—and the
fruition of God is the fulness of delight — must in this its
desire, in proportion to its intensity, be conscious of that

* Ps, lxxxiii, 1,
{ Hom. 30 in Evangel.

t Lam. iii, 20, 21,
§ 1S. Pet. i. 12.

=

264 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

fulness, seeing that it longs so earnestly after God, and so
herein there ought not to be any anxiety or pain.

The soul may But it is not so, for there is a great difference between the
the Fruition fruition of God by grace only, and the fruition of Him in

wh —_—
through
want of the
fruition of
union,

union also; the former is one of mutual good will, the latter
one of special communion. This difference resembles that
which exists between espousals and marriage. The former
implies only an agreement and the mutual good will of the
parties, contracting together with the bridal presents, and
the ornaments graciously given by the bridegroom. But
marriage involves also personal union and mutual self-sur-
render. Though in the state of betrothal, the bridegroom is
sometimes seen by the bride, and gives her presents; yet
there is no personal union, which is the end of espousals.
So when the soul has attained to such purity in itself, and in
its powers, that the will is purged completely from all
strange desires and inclinations, in its higher and lower
nature, and when it wholly consents unto God, the will of
both being one in free and ready concord, it has then
attained to the fruition of God by grace in the state of
betrothal and conformity of will. In this state of spiritual
betrothal between the soul and the Word, the Bridegroom
confers great favours upon the soul, and visits it oftentimes
most lovingly to its great comfort and delight. But all this
admits of no comparison with that which belongs to the
state of the spiritual marriage.

Now, though it is true that this takes place in the soul
when it is perfectly purged of every created affection —
because that must occur previous to the spiritual espousals
—still other positive dispositions on the part of God, His
visits and gifts of greater excellence, are requisite for this
union, and for the spiritual marriage. It is by means of
these dispositions, gifts, and visits, that the soul grows more
and more in purity, beauty, and refinement, so as to become

DESIRE DISPOSES FOR UNION. 265

__ meetly prepared for a union so high. All this requires time,
in some souls more, in others less, We have a type of this
in the history of the virgins chosen for King Assuerus. These
were taken in all the provinces of the kingdom, and brought
from their fathers’ houses; but before they could be presented
to the king, they were kept in the palace a whole year: ‘ For
_ six months they were anointed with oil of myrrh,’ and for the
other six with ‘ certain perfumes and sweet spices’ of a costlier
nature, after which they appeared in the presence of the king.*

requires

During the time of the espousals, and in expectation of Unotion of

the spiritual marriage in the unction of the Holy Ghost, &

when the unction disposing the soul for union is most
penetrating, the anxieties of the caverns become most press-
ing and keen. For as the unction of the Holy Ghost isa
proximate disposition for union with God, the unction is
most near unto Him; it fires the soul with the taste thereof,
and inspires it with a delicious longing after it. Thus this
desire is much more delicious and deep, because the desire for
God is a disposition for union with Him.

§ 4. This would be a good opportunity to warn souls
whom God is guiding to this delicate unction to take care
what they are doing, and to whose hands they commit
themselves, that they may not go backwards, were such a
task not altogether beside my purpose. But such is the pain
and grief of heart which I feel at the sight of some souls
who go backwards, not only by withdrawing themselves from
the further anointing of the Holy Ghost, but by losing the
effects of what they have already received, that I cannot
refrain from speaking on the subject, and telling them what
they ought to do in order to escape from so great an evil.
I will therefore leave my subject for a moment, but I shall
return to it soon again. And in truth the consideration of

* Esth, ii, 2, 12,

what,

STANZA
Ii,

God seeks the
soul more
than it seeks
Him,

Holy Ghost
the Guide to
Perfection.

‘Three blind

266 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE,

this matter tends to elucidate the nature of these caverns,
and it is also necessary, not only for those souls who
prosper in their work, but also for all others who are
searching after the Beloved.

In the first place, if a soul is seeking after God, the
Beloved is seeking it much more; if it sends after Him its
loving desires, which are sweet as ‘a pillar of smoke of
aromatical spices, of myrrh and frankincense,’ * He on His
part sends forth the odour of His ointments, which draw the
soul and make it run after Him.f These ointments are His
Divine inspirations and touches, which, in that they proceed
from Him, are always directed and ordered by the motives
of the perfection of the law of God and of the Faith, in
which perfection the soul must ever draw nearer and nearer
unto God. The soul, therefore, ought to see that the desire
of God in all the graces which He bestows upon it by means
of the unction and odour of His ointments, is to dispose it for
another and higher unction, and more in union with His
nature, until it attains to that delicate and pure disposition,
which is meritorious of the Divine union, and of its transfor-
mation in all its powers.

The soul, therefore, considering that God is the chief
agent in this matter, that it is He who guides it and leads it
by the hand whither it knows not, namely, unto supernatural
things beyond the reach of intellect, memory, and will, must
take especial care to put no difficulties in the way of its
guide, who is the Holy Ghost, on that road along which He
leads it by the law of God and the Faith. Such a difficulty
will be raised if the soul intrusts itself to a blind guide;
and the blind guides of the soul which lead it astray are
three, namely, the spiritual director, the devil, and its own self.

As to the first of these blind guides, it is of the greatest

* Cant. iii. 6. t Ib. i. 3.

THREE BLIND GUIDES OF THE SOUL. 267

Be ivtance to the soul desirous of perfection and anxious
not to fall back, to consider well into whose hands it resigns
itself; for as the master, so is the disciple; as the father, so
the child. You will scarcely find one who is in all respects
qualified to guide a soul in the higher parts of this road, or
even in the ordinary divisions of it, for a director must be
learned, prudent, and experienced. Though the foundations
of good direction be learning and discretion, yet if experience
of the higher ways be wanting, there are no means of guiding
a soul therein when God is showing the way, and inexpe-
rienced directors will therefore inflict great evils on their
penitents. Such directors, not understanding these ways of
the Spirit, will very frequently be the cause of souls losing
the unction of the delicate ointments, by means of which the
Holy Ghost is preparing the soul for Himself: for they will
guide them by other means of which they have read, but
which are adapted only for beginners. These directors
knowing how to guide beginners only—and God grant they
may know that—will not suffer their penitents to advance,
though it be the will of God, beyond the mere rudiments,
acts of reflection and imagination, whereby their profit is
extremely little.

§ 5. In order to have a dlear perception of the state of
beginners, we must keep in mind that it is one of meditation
and of acts of reflection. It is necessary to furnish the soul
in this state with matter for meditation, that it may make
reflections and those interior acts, and avail itself of the
sensible spiritual heat and fervour, for this is necessary in
order to accustom the senses and desires to good things, so
that by satisfying them by the sweetness thereof they may
be detached from the world.

When this is in some degree effected, God begins at once
to introduce the soul into the state of contemplation, and
that very quickly, especially in the case of Religious, because

268 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE. of
q

these, having renounced the world, quickly fashion their
senses and desires according to God; they have, therefore,
to pass at once from meditation to contemplation. This
passage, then, takes place when the discursive acts and medi-
tation fail, when sensible sweetness and the first fervours
cease, when the soul cannot make reflections as before, nor
find any sensible comfort, but is fallen into aridity, because
the spiritual life is changed, and the spirit is not cognisable
by sense. And as all the natural operations of the soul,
which are within its control, depend on the senses only, it
follows that God is now working in a special manner in this
state, that it is He who infuses and teaches, that the soul is
the recipient on which He bestows spiritual blessings by
contemplation, the knowledge and the love of Himself to-
gether; that is, He gives it the loving knowledge without
the instrumentality of its discursive acts, because it is no
longer able to form them as before. <i

§ 6. At this time, then, the direction of the soul must be
wholly different from what it was at first. If formerly it was
supplied with matter for meditation and it did meditate,
now that matter must be withheld and meditation must
cease, because, as I have said, it cannot meditate, do
what it will, and distractions are the result. If before |
it looked for fervour and sweetness and found them, let
it look for them no more nor desire them; and if it at-
tempt to seek them, not only will it not find them, but it
will meet with aridity, because it turns away from the
peaceful and tranquil good secretly bestowed upon it, when
it attempts to fall back on the operations of sense. In this
way it loses the latter without gaining the former, because
the senses have ceased to be the channel of spiritual good.
Souls in this state are not to be forced to meditate, nor to
apply themselves to discursive reflections laboriously effected,
neither are they to strive after sweetness and fervour, for if

MEDITATION YIELDS TO CONTEMPLATION. 269

3 ey? did so, they would be thereby placing obstacles in the
way of the principal agent, who is God Himself, for He is
now secretly and quietly infusing wisdom into the soul,
together with the loving knowledge of Himself, indepen-
dently of these divers acts, without their being -multiplied
or elicited, though He produces them sometimes specifically
in the soul, and that for some space of time. And in that
case, the soul too must be lovingly intent upon God without
specifically eliciting other acts beyond those to which He
inclines it; it must be as it were passive, making no efforts
of its own, purely, simply, and lovingly intent upon God,
as a man who opens his eyes with loving attention. For as
God is now dealing with the soul in the way of bestowing by
simple and loving knowledge, so the soul also, on its part,
must deal with Him in the way of receiving by simple and
loving knowledge, so that knowledge may be joined to know-
ledge, and love to love; because it is necessary here that the
recipient should be adapted to the gift, and not otherwise, and
that the gift may be accepted and preserved as it is given.

It is evident therefore, that if the soul does not now
abandon its previous ways of meditation, it will receive
this gift of God in a scanty and imperfect manner, not in
that perfection with which it is bestowed ; for the gift being
so grand, and an infused gift, cannot be received in this
scanty and imperfect way. Consequently, if the soul will at
this time make efforts of its own, and encourage another
‘disposition than that of passive loving attention, most submis-
sive and calm, and if it does not abstain from its previous
discursive acts, it will place a complete barrier against those
graces which God is about to communicate to it in this
loving knowledge. He gives His grace to beginners in the
exercise of purgation, as I have said, and afterwards with an
increase of the sweetness of love. But if the soul is to be
the recipient of this grace passively, in the natural way of

270 -THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

God, and not in the supernatural way of the soul, it follows Us

that, in order to be such a recipient, it must be perfectly

detached, calm, peaceful, and serene; it must be like the

atmosphere, which the sun illumines and warms in propor-
tion to its calmness and purity. Thus the soul must be
attached to nothing, not even to the subject of its meditation,
not to sensible or spiritual sweetness, because God requires a
spirit so free, so annihilated, that every act of the soul, even
of thought, of liking or disliking, will impede and disturb it,
and break that profound silence of sense and spirit necessary
for hearing the deep and delicate voice of God, Who speaks
to the heart in solitude;* it is in profound peace and
tranquillity that the soul is to listen to God, Who will speak
peace unto His people.t When this takes place, when the
soul feels that it is silent and listens, its loving attention
must be most pure, without a thought of self, in a manner
self-forgotten, so that it shall be wholly intent upon hearing,
for thus it is that the soul is free and ready for that which
our Lord requires at its hands.

§ 7. This tranquillity and self-forgetfulness are ever
attended with a certain interior absorption; and, therefore,
under no circumstances whatever, either of time or place,
is it lawful for the soul, now that. it has entered on the state
of contemplation, tranquil and simple, to recur to its previous
meditations, or to cleave to spiritual sweetness, as I have
said, and at great length, in the tenth chapter of the first
book of the Obscure Night, and previously in the last
chapter of the second, and in the first of the third book of the
Ascent of Mount Carmel. The soul must detach itself from
all spiritual sweetness, rise above it in freedom of spirit;
this is what the Prophet Habacuc did, for he says of himself,
‘I will stand upon my watch’ over my senses—that is, I

* Os, ii. 14. t Ps. lxxxiv, 9.

BRIGHT. SUN IN CLEAR AIR. a7
a them below—‘and fix my foot upon the tower’

3 of my faculties—that is, they shall not advance a step even

in thought—‘and I will watch to see what will be said to
me,’ * that is, I will receive what God shall communicate to me
passively. I have already said that to contemplate is to
receive, and it is impossible to receive the highest wisdom,
that is contemplation, otherwise than in a silent spirit,
detached from all sweetness and particular knowledge. The
Prophet Isaias teaches the same truth when he says, ‘Whom
shall He teach knowledge? and whom shall He make to
understand the hearing? them that are weaned from the
milk,’ that is from sweetness and personal likings, ‘ that are
drawn .away from the breasts,’t from their reliance on
particular knowledge. Take away the mote and the film
from thine eye, and make it clean, 0 thou who art spiritual,
and then the sun will shine for thee, and thou shalt see
clearly. Establish thy soul in the freedom of calm peace,
withdraw it from the yoke and slavery of the miserable
efforts of thine own strength, which is the captivity of Egypt
—for all thou canst do is little more than to gather straw for
the bricks—and guide it into the land of promise flowing
with milk and honey.

O spiritual director, remember it is for this liberty and
holy rest that God calls the soul into the wilderness; there
it journeys in festal robes, with ornaments of gold and
silver, t for the Egyptians are spoiled and their riches carried
away.§ Nor is this all: the enemies of the soul are drowned
in the sea of contemplation, where the Egyptian of sense
could find no support for his feet, leaving the child of God
free, that is the spirit, to transcend the narrow limits of
its own operations, of its low views, rude perceptions, and
wretched likings. God does all this for the soul that He

* Habac. ii. 1. t+ Is. xxviii, 9 { Exod. xxxiii4. § Ib. xii 35.

Advice to

How the
contempla-
tive soul is to
be guided.

Its feelings,
and solitude,

272 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

may give it the manna, which, though ‘ haying in it all that

is delicious and the sweetness of every taste’*—objects of
desire for the soul according to thy direction — and though
it is so delicious that it melts in the mouth, thy penitent
shall not taste of it, if he encourages any other desire what-
ever, for he shall not receive of this.

Strive, therefore, to root out of the soul all desire after
sweetness, all efforts after meditations; do not disquiet it by
any solicitude about spiritual things, still less after earthly
things; establish it in an estrangement from all around, and
in the utmost possible solitude. For the greater its progress
in this, and the more rapidly it attains to this calm tran-
quillity, the more abundant will be the infusion of the spirit
of Divine Wisdom, the loving, calm, lonely, peaceful, sweet
ravisher of the spirit. The soul will feel itself at times
enraptured, gently and tenderly wounded, not knowing by
whom, how, or when, because the Spirit communicates Him-
self to it without effort on its own part. The least portion
of the action of God on the soul in this state of holy rest and
solitude is an inestimable good, transcending the very thought
of the soul and of its spiritual guide, and though it does
not appear so then, it will show itself in due time. What
the soul feels in this state is a certain estrangement and

alienation from all things around it, sometimes more, some- —

times less, with a certain sweet aspiration of love and life of
the spirit, an inclination to solitude, and a sense of weariness
in the things of this world, for when we taste of the spirit,
the flesh becomes insipid. But the interior goods which
silent contemplation impresses on the soul without the
soul’s consciousness of them, are of inestimable value, for
they are the most sweet and delicious unctions of the Holy

Ghost, whereby He secretly fills the soul with the riches of

* Wisd, xvi. 20.

conte work HINDERED BY MAN. 273

we ayn and graces; for being God, He doeth the work of
God as God.

_ §8. These goods, then, these great riches, these sublime and
delicate unctions, this knowledge of the Holy Ghost—which,
on account of their exquisite and subtile pureness, neither the
soul itself, nor he to whom the direction of it is entrusted,
can comprehend, but only He Who infuses them in order to
render it more pleasing to Himself—are most easily, even by
the slightest application of sense or desire to any particular
knowledge or sweetness, disturbed and hindered. This is a
serious evil, and a matter of deep grief. O how sad, and how
wonderful! The evil done is not perceived, and the cause of it
is almost nothing, and yet it is more grievous, an object of
deeper sorrow, and inflicts a greater stain, than any other,
though seemingly more important in common souls which
have not attained to such a high estate of pureness. It is as
if a beautiful painting were roughly handled, besmeared with
coarse and vile colours; for the injury done is greater, more
observable, and more deplorable, than it would be if a
multitude of common paintings were thus bedaubed.

Though this evil be so great that it cannot be exaggerated,
it is still so common that there is scarcely one spiritual
director who does not inflict it upon souls whom God has
begun to lead by this way to contemplation. For, whenever
God is anointing a soul with the unction of loving knowledge,
most delicate, serene, peaceful, lonely, strange to sense and
imagination; whenever He withholds all sweetness from it,
and suspends its power of meditation — because He reserves it

Fa

Z

for this lonely unction, inclined to solitude and quiet—a spiri- An iner-

tual director will appear, who, like a rough blacksmith, knows

only the use of his hammer, and who, because all bis know- fa

ledge is limited to the coarser work, will say to it: Come, get

rid of this, this is waste of time and idleness: arise and

meditate, resume thine interior acts, for it is necessary that
VOL. II. T

274 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

stanzA thou shouldest make diligent efforts of thine own; everything

else is delusion and folly. Such a director as this does not
understand the gradations of prayer, nor the ways of the
Spirit, neither does he consider that what he recommends
the soul is too late, since it has passed through that state
already, having attained to the state of sensitive abnegation ;
for when the goal is reached, and the journey ended, all
further travelling must be away from the goal.

Such a spiritual director, therefore, is one who understands
not that the soul has already attained to the life of the
Spirit, wherein there is no reflection, and where the senses
cease from their work; where God is Himself the agent in a
special way, and is speaking in secret to the solitary soul.
Directors of this kind bedaub the soul with the coarse
ointments of particular knowledge and sensible sweetness, to
which they bring it back; they rob it of its loneliness and
recollection, and consequently disfigure the exquisite work
which God was doing within it. The soul that is under
such guidance as this fails in one method and does not profit
by the other.

§ 9. Let spiritual directors of this kind remember, that
the Holy Ghost is the principal agent here, and the real
guide of souls; that He never ceases to take care of them,
and never neglects any means by which they may profit and
draw near unto God as quickly as possible, and in the best
way. Let them remember that they are not the agents, but
mere instruments only to guide souls by the rule of Faith
and the law of God, according to the spirit which God gives
to each. Their object therefore should be, not to guide souls
by a way of their own suitable to themselves, but to ascertain,
if they can, the way by which God Himself is guiding them.
If they cannot ascertain it, let them leave these souls alone
and not disquiet them. Let them adapt their instructions to
the direction of God, and endeavour to lead their penitents into

oe.

_ may not be tied down to any particular course when God is

_ thus leading them on. The spiritual director must not be

anxious or afflicted because he is doing nothing in this case,

as he imagines, for provided the soul of his penitent be

detached from all particular knowledge, from every desire

LINE
Il.

Conditions of
Divine

and inclination of sense; provided it abide in the self-denial of mination.

poverty of spirit, emptied of darkness and sweetness, weaned
from the breast—for this is all that the soul should look to,
and all that the spiritual director is to consider as within the
province of them both — it is impossible — according to the
course of the Divine Goodness and Mercy—that God will
not perform His own work, yea, more impossible than that
the sun should not shine in a cloudless sky. As the sun
rising in the morning shines into thy house if thou dost but
open thy windows, so God, the unsleeping Keeper of Israel,”
will shine in upon the emptied soul and fill it with good
things. God is here like the sun, above our souls and ready
to enter within them. Let spiritual directors, therefore, be
content to prepare souls according to the laws of evangelical
perfection, which consists in detachment, and in the empti-
ness of sense and spirit. Let them not go beyond this with
the building, for that is the work of our Lord alone, from
Whom cometh ‘every perfect gift.’t For, ‘unless the- Lord
build the house, they labour in vain that build it..¢ And as
He is the supernatural Builder, He will build up in every
soul, according to His own good pleasure, the supernatural
building. Do thou, who art the spiritual director, dispose

__ the natural faculties by annihilating them in their acts—

that is thy work; the work of God, as the Wise Man says,§ is
to direct man’s steps towards supernatural goods by ways and
means utterly unknown to thee and thy penitent. Say not,

* Paexx.4. +S. Jamesid7. } Ps cxxvil. § Prov. xvi. 1, 9.
rT?

what.

The intellect
goes forward
by faith.

Supernatural
love for God
does not
distinct

knowledge,
or discursive
acts.

276 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

therefore, that thy penitent is making no progress, or is doing
nothing, for if he have no greater pleasure than he once had
in particular knowledge, he is advancing towards that which
is above nature. Neither do thou complain that thy peni-
tent has no distinct perceptions, for if he had he would be
making no progress, because God is incomprehensible, sur-
passing all understanding. And so the further the penitent
advances, the further from himself must he go, walking by
faith, believing and not seeing; he thus draws nearer unto
God by not understanding, than by understanding. Trouble
not thyself about this, for if the intellect goes not backwards
occupying itself with distinct knowledge and other matters of
this world, it is going forwards ; for to go forwards is to go
more and more by faith, The intellect, having neither the
knowledge nor the power of comprehending God, advances
towards Him by not understanding. Thus, then, what thou
judgest amiss in thy penitent is for his profit: namely, that
he does not perplex himself with distinct perceptions, but
walks onwards in perfect faith.

§ 10. Or, you will say, perhaps, that the will, if the intellect
have no distinct perceptions, will be at the least idle, and
without love, because we can love nothing that we do not
know. That is very true as to the natural actions of the
soul, for the will does not love or desire anything of which
there is no distinct conception in the intellect. But during
the season of infused contemplation, it is not at all necessary
for the soul to have distinct knowledge, or to form many
discursive acts, because God Himself is then communicating
to it loving knowledge, which is at the same time heat and
light indistinctly, and then according to the state of the
intellect is love also in the will. As the knowledge is
general and obscure—the intellect being unable to conceive
distinctly what it understands—so the will also loves gene-
rally and indistinctly. For as God is light and love in

intellect and the will, though at times His presence is felt
in one more than in the other. At one time the intellect

is more filled with knowledge than the will with love, and at
another, love is deeper than intelligence.

There is po reason, therefore, to be afraid of the will’s
idleness in this state, for if it ceases to elicit acts directed by
particular knowledge, so far as they depend on itself, God
inebriates it with infused love through the knowledge which
contemplation ministers, as I have just said.

These acts of the will which are consequent upon infused
‘contemplation are so much the nobler, the more meritorious
and the sweeter, the nobler their source, God, Who infuses
this love and kindles it in the soul, for the will is now near
unto God, and detached from all other joys. Take care,
therefore, to empty the will and detach it from all its
inclinations, for if it is not going backwards, searching after

sweetness and comfort, even though it have none in God
distinctly felt, it is really advancing upwards above all such
things to God, seeing that it is without any particular
pleasure.

And though the penitent have no particular comfort in
God distinctly apprehended, though he does not make
distinct acts of love, he does find more comfort in Him
in that general secret and obscure infusion than if he were
under the influence of distinct acts of knowledge, because
the soul sees clearly then that nothing can furnish so much
comfort and delight as this calm and lonely infusion. He
loves God too more than all lovely things, because the soul
has thrown aside all other joys and pleasures, for they have
become insipid. There is no ground for uneasiness here, for
if the will can find no rest in the joys and satisfactions of
___ particular acts, there is then real progress, because not to go
___ backwards, embracing what is sensible, is to go onwards to the

activein Con-

Test of true

278 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

unapproachable, who is God. Hence, then, if the will is to
advance, it is to do so more by detachment from, than by
attachment to, what is pleasurable and sweet. Herein is
fulfilled the precept of love, namely, that we are to love
Him above all things. And if this love is to be perfect, we
must live in perfect detachment, and in a special emptiness
of all things.

§ 11. Neither are we to be distressed when the memory is
emptied of all forms and figures; for as God is without form
or figure, the memory is safe when emptied of them, and
draws thereby the nearer to God. For the more the
memory relies on the imagination, the further it departs
from God, and the greater the risks it runs; because God,
being above our thoughts, is not cognisable by the imagina-
tion. These spiritual directors, not understanding the case
of souls who have already entered into the state of quiet and
solitary contemplation, and perhaps having never advanced
beyond the ordinary state of reflection and meditation
themselves, look upon penitents, such as I am speaking of,
as idle—for ‘the sensual man,’ the man who still dwells
with the feelings of the sensitive part of the soul, ‘ perceiveth
not these things that are of the Spirit of God’*—disturb the
peace of that calm and tranquil contemplation given them by
God, and force them back to their former meditations. This
is followed by great loss, repugnance, dryness, and dis-
tractions on the part of such penitents, who desire to abide
in their quiet and peaceful self-recollection. These directors
will have them strive after sweetness and fervours, though in
truth they should have given them a wholly different advice.
Their penitents are unable to follow their direction, being
incapable of meditating as before; because the time for that
is past, and because that is not the road by which they are to

* 1 Cor. ii. 14,

“ee
_— aoe
—s “i
-
ey

7 ' ade ? :
~~ a :
> SOUL’S PEACE DISTURBED. 279

travel now. They are, therefore, doubly disquieted, and
imagine themselves in the way of perdition. Their directors

encourage them in this supposition, dry up their spirit, rob
them of those precious unctions which God gave them in
solitude and calm—and this is a great evil—and furnish
them with mere mud instead, for they lose the former, and
labour in vain with the latter.

Such directors as these do not really know what spiritu-
ality is. They wrong God most grievously, and treat Him
irreverently, putting forth their coarse hands to the work
which He is doing Himself. It has cost God nota little to
have brought souls thus far, and He greatly esteems this
solitude to which He has led them, this emptiness of their
faculties, for He has brought them thither that He may speak
to their heart,* which is the object of His continual desire.
He now takes them by the hand, and reigns within them
in the abundance of peace. He has deprived the discursive
faculties of their strength, wherewith they had ‘laboured all
the night’ and had taken nothing.t He feeds them now in
spirit, not by the operation of sense, because the senses
together with their acts cannot contain the spirit.

How precious in His sight is this calm, or sleep, or
annibilation of the senses, His words in the Canticle show:
‘I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes and
harts of the fields, that you stir not up nor awake my
beloved till she please.’t He shows clearly how much He
values this sleep and oblivion of the soul, by the mention of
those solitary and retired animals. But the spiritual direc-
tors of whom I am speaking will not suffer their penitents
to repose, but insist upon continual labour, so that God shall
find no opportunity for doing His own work ; what He is doing
they undo and disfigure by the compulsory activity of the

* Os, ii. 14, + 8. Lukev, 5. = Cant. iii. 5.

fg
i

280 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

soul of their penitents; and the little foxes that destroy the
vines are not driven away. God complains of these directors
by the mouth of the Prophet, saying, ‘ You have devoured
the vineyard.’ * ;

But it may be said that these directors err, perhaps, with
good intentions, because their knowledge is scanty. Be it so;
but they are not therefore justified in giving the rash counsels
they do, without previously ascertaining the way and spirit of
their penitent. And if they do not understand the case, it is
not for them to interfere in what they do not comprehend,
but rather to send their penitent to others who understand
him better than they. It is not a trivial matter, or a slight
fault to cause, by incompetent direction, the loss of inestimable
blessings, and to endanger a soul. Thus, he who rashly errs,
being under an obligation to give good advice—for so is
everyone in the office he assumes— shall not go unpunished
for the evil he has done. The affairs of God are to be handled
with great caution and watchful circumspection, and especially
this, which is so delicate, and so high, and where the gain is
infinite if the direction given be right, and the loss also
infinite if it be wrong.

§ 12. Butif you say that such a direetor may be excused—
though for my part I do not see how—you must at least
admit that he is inexcusable if he persist in keeping a peni-
tent in his power for certain empty reasons and considerations
known to himself. It is quite certain that a soul which is to
make progress in the spiritual life, and which God is ever
assisting, must change its method of prayer, and be in need
of a higher instruction, and of another spirit than those of
such a director. Not all directors have the knowledge which
every event on the spiritual road requires; neither are they
all qualified to determine how a given soul is to be directed

* Is. iii. 14,

Eee a

ARS ARTIUM DIRECTIO ANIMARUM. 281

- “under every circumstance of the spiritual life; at least they
must not presume that they have, or that it is God’s will that
a particular soul should not advance further. As it is not
everyone who can trim a block of wood, can also carve an
image out of it; nor can everyone form the outlines who can
carve ; nor can everyone who fashions the outlines paint
them, as neither can everyone who can paint perfect and com-
plete the image: for everyone of these can do only what
he understands himself; and if any one of them were to
attempt that which is not within the compass of his skill, he
would spoil the statue.

So is it in the spiritual life; for if a director whose only piterent
work it is to trim the rude block, that is, to make his penitent promos

despise the world, and mortify his desires; or if, further, it

of

be that of the carver, which is to guide the soul into holy *“""*

meditations, and if his science extend no further, how can he
guide his penitent to the highest perfection of the finished
_ portrait, to that delicate colouring which consists not in the
rough hewing of the wood, nor in the carving thereof, nor
even in the formation of the outlines, but is rather a work
which God Himself perfects in the soul with His own hand.
It is therefore quite certain that such a director as this, whose
teaching is ever the same, cannot help driving back the
penitent whom he subjects to it, or, at the least, hindering his
advancement. For what will be the state of the image, if
nothing be done to it but to rough-hew the wood and beat it
with a mallet? What is this, but the discipline of the facul-
ties? When shall the image be finished? When shall it be
ready for God to colour it?

Is it possible that any spiritual director can think himself
qualified for all this? that he looks upon himself as sufficiently
skilful, so as to render the teaching of any other needless for
his penitent? Granting even that he is qualified for the
whole direction of a particular soul, because, perhaps, such a

i

~

>

282 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

soul has no vocation for a higher walk, it is almost impossible
that he can be also a sufficient guide for all whom he hinders
from passing out of his hands into the hands of others. God
leads every soul by a separate path, and you will scarcely
meet with one spirit which agrees with another in one half
of the way by which it advances. Who can be like 8. Paul,

who ‘became all things to all men, that he might save

all?’ *

Thou art thus become a tyrant of souls, the robber of their
liberties, assuming to thyself all the freedom of the evangel-
ical doctrine, and taking every precaution lest any of thy
penitents should leave thee; yea, still further, and much
worse, should it come to thy knowledge that any of them had
gone elsewhere for direction, or to discuss a question which
it was not convenient to submit to thee; or if God had led
them for the purpose of learning what thou teachest not—
I say it with shame— thou art jealous, like a husband of his
wife. This is not zeal for the honour of God, but the zeal
which cometh out of thine own pride and presumption. How
couldest thou be sure that thy penitent had no need of other
guidance than thine? With such directors God is angry, and
he threatens to chastise them, saying: ‘Woe to the shepherds
of Israel . . . you eat the milk and you clothed yourselves
with the wool . . . but my flock you did not feed... .
I will require my flock at their hand.’ f

These directors, therefore, ought to leave their penitents at
liberty, yea, they lie under an obligation to allow them to have
recourse to the advice of others, and always to receive them
again with a cheerful countenance; for they know not by
what way God intends to lead them, especially when their
present direction is not suited to them. That, indeed, is a
sign that God is leading their penitents by another road, and

* 1 Cor. ix. 22. + Ezech, xxxiv. 2, 10,

q
eee past

“s that they require another director; they should, therefore,
-_ eounsel the change, for a contrary course of proceeding springs
from a foolish pride and presumption.

§ 13. Let me now pass on from this and speak of those
other means, fatal as the plague, which these directors, or
others worse than they, make use of in the guidance of souls.
When God sends into a soul the unctions of holy desires, and
leads it to give up the world, draws it on to change its state
of life, and to serve Himself by despising the world—it is a
great matter in His eyes that souls should have advanced to
this, for the things of the world are not according to the
heart of God—these directors, with their human reasonings
and worldly motives, contrary to the doctrine of Christ, at
variance with mortification and contempt of all things, con-
sulting their own interest or pleasure, or fearing where no
fear is, interpose delays or suggest difficulties, or, what is
worse, take away all such good thoughts from the hearts of
_ their penitents. These directors have an evil spirit, indevout
and exceedingly worldly; unaccustomed to the ways of Christ,
they do not enter in themselves by the strait gate, neither
will they suffer others to enter in, These are they whom our
Lord threatens in the Gospel, saying: ‘ Woe to you lawyers,
for you have taken away the key of knowledge: you yourselves
have not entered in, and those that were entering you have
hindered.’ *

These directors are in truth like barriers before the gate of
Heaven, forgetting that God has called them to the functions
they exercise that they may compel those to enter in whom He
has invited. He has given them this charge in the Gospel, but
they, on the contrary, compel their penitents not to enter in
by the narrow gate which leadeth unto life.f Such a director
as this is one of the blind guides leading souls astray from

* &. Luke xi. 52, + S. Matth. vii. 13, 14.

284 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

the way of the Holy Ghost. This happens in many ways;
some err knowingly; others ignorantly; but both the one and
the other shall be punished; for by taking upon themselves
the office which they fill, they are bound to understand and
consider what they do.

§ 14. The other blind guide that disturbs the soul in this
interior recollection is Satan, who, being blind himself, desires
to render the soul blind also. He labours, therefore, when the
soul has entered into those deep solitudes, wherein the de-
licate unctions of the Holy Ghost are infused —he hates and
envies the soul for this, because he sees it fly beyond his
reach, adorned with the riches of God—to throw over the
soul’s detachment and estrangement from the world, certain
cataracts of knowledge, and the darkness of sensible sweetness,
sometimes good, the more to entice the soul, and to draw it
back to the way of sense. He would have it fix its eyes on
this, and make use of it with a view of drawing near to God,
relying upon this kind of knowledge, and sensible sweetness.
By this means Satan distracts the soul, and easily withdraws
it from that solitude and recollection wherein the Holy Ghost
worketh secretly His great marvels within. And then the
soul, naturally prone to sensible satisfactions and sweetness
—especially if it aims at them—is most easily induced to
rely upon such knowledge and sweetness, and so draws back
from the solitude wherein God was working. For as the soul,
as it seemed, was doing nothing then, this new way appears
preferable, because it is something, while solitude seemed to
be nothing. How sad it is that the soul, not understanding
its own state, should, for one mouthful, disqualify itself for
feeding upon God Himself; for He offers Himself to be its
food when He absorbs it in these spiritual and solitary
unctions of His mouth.

In this way, the evil spirit, for a mere nothing, inflicts
upon souls the very greatest injuries, causing the loss of great

SATAN AS A BLIND GUIDE. 285

riches, and deere them forth, like fish with a trifling bait,
<j “out of the depths of the pure waters of the Spirit, where they

. _ were engulfed and drowned in God, resting upon no created
support. He drags them to the bank, and supplies them with

objects whereon to rest, and makes them walk on the earth
painfully, that they may not float on ‘the waters of Siloe,
that go with silence,’* bathed in the unctions of God. It is
wonderful how much Satan makes of this: and as a slight
injury inflicted on the soul in this state is a great one, you
will scarcely meet with one which has gone this way that has
not suffered great injuries, and incurred grievous losses,
Satan stations himself with great cunning on the frontiers
between sense and spirit; there he deludes the soul, and feeds
the senses, interposing sensible things so as to detain it, and
hinder it from escaping out of his hands.

The soul, too, is most easily taken by these devices, for it
knows as yet of nothing better; neither does it dream that
this is a loss, yea rather, it looks on it as a great gain, and
accepts the suggestions of the evil one gladly, for it thinks
that God has come to visit it; consequently it omits to enter
into the inner chamber of the Bridegroom, and stands at the
door to see what is passing without in the sensitive part of
itself. |

The devil ‘ beholdeth every high thing ’f that relates to souls
that he may assail them. If, therefore, a soul becomes re-
collected, he labours to disturb it by horrors and fears, or by
bodily pains, or outward noise and tumults, that he may
ruin it; he strives to draw its attention to the tumult he
excites, and to fix it upon what is passing without, and to
withdraw it from the interior spirit, but when he fails in
his efforts he leaves it alone. So easily does Satan squander
great riches and bring about the ruin of these precious

* Is. viii. 6, + Job xli. 25.

286 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

stanza souls, though he thinks this of more consequence than the
~ fall of many others, that he looks upon it as a small matter
because of the ease with which he effects it and because of
the little trouble it costs him.
Saiedk pene § 15. We may also understand in the same sense the
following words, spoken by God to Job: ‘Behold he will
drink up a river and not. wonder: and he trusteth that the
Jordan ’—the highest perfection —‘ may run into his mouth.
In his eyes as with a hook he shall take him, and bore
through his nostrils with stakes.’ That is, he will turn
away the soul from true spirituality by means of the arrows
of distinct knowledge wherewith he pierces it, for the breath
which goeth out through the nostrils in-one volume becomes
dispersed if the nostrils be pierced, and escapes through the
divers perforations.

Again it is said, ‘The beams of the sun shall be under
him, and he shall strew gold under him like mire.’ He
causes souls that have been enlightened to lose the marvel-
lous beams of Divine knowledge, takes away and disperses
abroad the precious gold of the Divine adorning by which
-souls had been made rich.

Advice to O souls, now that God shows you mercies so great, leading
you into solitude and recollection, withdrawing you from the
Contem- § labours of sense, do not you return thereto. If your own
exertions were once profitable, enabling you to deny the
world and your own selves when you were but beginners,
cease from them now when God of His mercy has begun to
work in you, for now they will only embarrass you. If you
will be careful to lay no stress on your own operations,
withdrawing them from all things, and involving them in
nothing—which is your duty in your present state—and
wait lovingly and sincerely upon God at the same time—
doing no violence to yourselves except to detach yourselves
wholly, so as not to disturb your tranquillity and peace—God

a ee OOP a.

| SELP A BLIND GUIDE. 287

” Himself will feed you with the heavenly food, since you
ie) _ cease to hinder Him.

_ §16. The third blind guide of the soul is the soul itself,
a "which, not understanding its own state, disturbs and injures
itself. For as the soul knows of no operations except those
of sense, when God leads it into solitude, where it cannot
exert its faculties and elicit the acts it elicited before, and as
_ it appears to itself then to be doing nothing, it strives to
elicit its previous acts more distinctly and more sensibly.
: The consequence is distraction, aridity, and disgust, in that
very soul which once delighted in the calm peace and
spiritual silence, wherein God Himself was in secret infusing
His sweetness. It sometimes happens that God persists in
_ keeping the soul in this quiet calm, and that the soul
persists in crying out with the imagination, and in walking
with the intellect. Such souls are like children in their
mothers’ arms, who, unable to walk, cry, and struggle with
- their feet, demanding to be allowed to walk alone, but who
cannot walk themselves, and suffer not their mothers to
do so either. These souls make God resemble a painter
whose work is hindered because the subject he portrays is
not suffered to remain stationary. —
The soul, then, should keep in mind that it is now making
greater progress than it could make by any efforts of its own,
though it be wholly unconscious of that progress. God

2

that it is not aware that it is advancing. Though it thinks
that it is doing nothing, yet in truth more is done than if
itself were the agent; for God Himself is working. If this
work be invisible, that is nothing strange, for the work of
God in the soul is not cognisable by sense, because silently
wrought: ‘The words of the wise are heard in silence.’*

* Eccles, ix. 17.

Himself is carrying it in His own arms, and thus it happens -

288 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

Let the soul abandon itself to the hands of God and confide

~— in Him. He that will do so shall walk securely, for there

As desire,
so fruition.

is no danger then unless the soul should attempt any-
thing in its own strength, or by the exercise of its proper
faculties.

§ 17. Let us now return to the deep caverns of the
faculties, in which I said the sufferings of the soul were
ordinarily very great when God is anointing it, and pre-
paring it for union with Himself by His subtile and delicate
unctions. These unctions of God are so subtile that, penetrat-
ing into the inmost depths of the soul, they so dispose it,
and so fill it with sweetness, that the sufferings and fainting
of the soul through its great desire in the immense void
of the caverns are immense. Now if the unction which
disposes the caverns for the union of the spiritual marriage
be so wonderful, what shall the accomplishment thereof be ?
Certain it is that as the hunger and thirst and suffering of
the caverns so will be the satisfaction, fulness, and delight
thereof. According to the perfection of these dispositions
will be the exquisite delight of the fruition of the sense of the
soul, which is that power and energy of its very substance
for perceiving and delighting in the objects of the faculties.
These faculties are with great propriety called caverns. For
as the soul is conscious that they admit the profound intel-
ligence and splendours of the lamps, it sees clearly also,
that they are deep in proportion to the depth of the intel-
ligence and love; that they have space and capacity com-
mensurate with the distinct sources of the intelligence, of
the sweetness and delight which it receives in them. All this
is received and established in the cavern of the sense of the
soul which is the capacity thereof for possession, perception,
and fruition. Thus, as the common sense of the fancy is
the place where all the objects of the outward senses are
treasured up, so is this common sense of the soul in a like

___ iy, ‘Obscure and dark.’—The eye sees not in two ways,

E * either because it is in darkness or is blind. God is the light
and the true object of the soul, and when He does not shine

upon it, it is then in darkness, though its vision may
be most perfect. When the soul is in sin, or when it
occupies the desires with other things than God, it is then
blind. Though the light of God be not wanting to it then,
yet, being blind, it cannot see the light because of its
blindness, which is the practical ignorance in which it lives.
Before God enlightened the soul in its transformation it was
in darkness and ignorant of His great goodness, as was the
Wise Man before he was enlightened, for he says, ‘He
enlightened my ignorances.’*

Speaking spiritually, it is one thing to be blind wid

__ another to be in darkness. Blindness proceeds from sin, but }.
_ darkness does not necessarily involve sin, and it happens in

two ways. There is natural darkness where the light of
natural things shines not, and there is supernatural darkness
where ‘there is no knowledge of many supernatural things.
Here the soul says with regard to them both, that the intel-
lect without God abode in darkness. For until the Lord said,
‘ Let light be,’t darkness was upon the face of the deep of the
cavern of the soul’s sense. The deeper the cavern when God
shines not upon it, the deeper is the darkness thereof. Thus
it is impossible for it to lift up the eyes to the Divine light,
yea the Divine light is not even thought of, because never
seen or known to exist; there is therefore no desire for it. In
that case it desires the darkness rather than light, and so goes
on from darkness to darkness, guided by the darkness, for

* Ecclus. li, 26. Ignorantias meas illuminavit. See Obscure Night,
Bk. ii. c. 12, + Genes. i. 3,

VOL. I, U

il

STANZA
Til.

How to.
rectify judg-
ment of the
things of
God,

290 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

darkness can guide the soulonly to darkness again. As‘ day to
day uttereth speech and night to night showeth knowledge,’* |
so the deep of darkness calleth another deep, and the deep of
light another ;f like calling upon like. Thus, then, the light -
of grace which God had before given to the soul, and by
which He opened the eyes of it from the deep to behold the
Divine light, and made it pleasing to Himself, calls to another
deep of grace, namely, the Divine transformation of the soul
in God, wherein the eye of sense is enlightened and rendered
acceptable.

The mind was also blind in that it took pleasure in other
than God. The blindness of the higher and rational sense
is caused by the desire which, like a cloud or a cataract,
overlies and covers the eye of reason, so that it shall not see
what is before it. Thus, then, the grandeur and magnifi-
cence of the Divine beauty are rendered invisible, so far as the
pleasure of sense is followed. For if we cover the eye with
anything, however trifling it may be, that is enough to
obstruct the vision of objects before us, be they ever so
grand. Thus, then, a single desire entertained by the soul
suffices to impede the vision of all the Divine grandeurs
which are beyond its desires and longings. Who can say
how impossible it is for the soul, subject to desires, to judge
of the things of God ? for he that would judge aright of these
things must cast away from himself all desires, because he
cannot judge aright while subject thereto; for in that case
he will come to consider the things of God not to be God’s,
and those things which are not God’s to be the things of
God.

While this cloud and cataract cover the eye of the judg-
ment, nothing is visible except the cloud. itself, sometimes of
one colour, sometimes of another, according to circumstances,

* Ps. xviii. 2. T Ib. xii. 8.

~

~
4 Af

; PRD et os a 291

nothing beside the cloud which overshadows the sense, and

God is not comprehended by sense. Thus, desire and

sensual satisfactions hinder the knowledge of high things,
as it is written, ‘The bewitching of vanity obscureth good
things, and the wandering of concupiscence overturneth the
innocent mind.’* Those persons, therefore, who are not so
spiritually advanced as to be perfectly purified from their
desires and inclinations, but are still somewhat sensual,

believe and account those things to be important which are ©

in truth of no account in spirituality, being intimately con-
nected with sense; they make no account and despise those
things which are highly spiritual, further removed from

_ sense, yea sometimes they look upon them as folly, as it

is written, ‘The sensual man perceiveth not these things
that are of the Spirit of God: for it is foolishness to him

and he cannot understand.’ t

The ‘sensual man’ is he who still lives according to the
desires and inclinations of the natural man, and even though
these natural desires come occasionally into contact with
the things of the spirit, yet, if man cleaves to spiritual
things with his natural desires, they are still natural desires
only. The spirituality of the object is little to the pur-
pose, if the desire of it proceed from itself, having its root
and strength in nature. What! you will say, is it nota
supernatural desire to desire God? No, not always; but
only then when the motive is supernatural, and when the

strength of the desire proceeds from God; that is a very

different thing. When the desire comes from thyself, so far
as it relates to the manner thereof, it is nothing more than
natural, So, then, when thou leanest on thy spiritual tastes,
exerting thine own natural desire, thou bringest a cataract

* Wied. iv. 12. + 1 Cor. ii. 14.
v2

How

=

292 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

over thine eye, thou art wholly sensands thou canst neither
perceive nor judge what is spiritual, for that transcends all
natural sense and desire.

If you still doubt, I have nothing further to add except to
bid you read over again what I have written, and if you will
do so perhaps your doubts will vanish. What I have said is
the substance of the truth, and I cannot now enlarge upon
it. This sense of the soul, hitherto obscure without the
Divine light and blinded by its desires, is now such that its
deep caverns, because of the Divine union, ‘ with unwonted
brightness give light and heat together to the Beloved.’

v. vi. ‘ With unwonted brightness give light and heat toge-
ther to the Beloved.’—These caverns of the soul’s faculties
being now among the marvellous splendours of the lamps which
burn within them, being lighted and burning in God, remit
back to God in God, in addition to their self-surrender to
Him, those very splendours which they receive from Him in
loving glory; they also, turning to God in God, being them-
selves lamps burning in the brightness of the Divine lamps,
return to the Beloved that very light and warmth of love which
they received from Him. Now, indeed, they give back unto
Him, in the way they received them, those very splendours
which He communicates, as crystal reflects the rays of the
sun when shone upon. But this state of the soul effects
this in a nobler manner, because of the intervention of the
will.

‘With unwonted brightness ;’ that is, strange and surpass-
ing all imagination and description. For the perfection of
beauty wherein the soul restores to God what it has received
from Him is now in conformity with that perfection where-
with the intellect—made one with that of God—received the
Divine Wisdom ; and -the perfection wherewith the will
restores to God in God that very goodness He gave it—
for it was given only to be restored—is in conformity with

ee

™"
%
“

GOD GIVEN TO HIMSELF. 293

5 is "that perfection wherein the will is united with the will of ——
God. In the same way, proportional to the perfection of —
its knowledge of God’s greatness, united therewith, does the

soul shine and give forth the warmth of love. And according to

the perfection of the other Divine attributes communicated

to the soul, such as strength, beauty, justice, are those
perfections wherewith the spiritual mind, now in enjoyment,

gives back to the Beloved in the Beloved the very light and

heat received from Him.

The soul now being one with God is itself God by Thetrans-
participation, and though not so perfectly as it will be in shadow ot
the world to come, is still, as I have said, God in a shadow.

Thus, then, the soul, by reason of its transformation,
being a shadow of God, effects through God in God what

He effects within it Himself by Himself, because the will

of both is one. And as God is giving Himself with a free
and gracious will, so the soul also with a will, the more free
and the more generous, the more it is united with God in ‘he perfect
God, is, as it were, giving back to God—in that loving lve.
complacency with which it regards the Divine Essence and
perfections—God Himself. This is a mystic and affective gift

of the soul to God, for then the soul seems in truth to have
God for its own possession, and that it possesses Him, as His
adopted child, by a right of ownership, by the free gift of
Himself made unto it. The soul gives to the Beloved, Who

is God Himself, what He had given to it. Herein every
debt is paid, for the soul giveth as much voluntarily with
inestimable joy and delight, giving the Holy Spirit as its
own of its own free will, so that God may be loved as He
deserves to be.

Herein consists the inestimable joy of the soul, for it sees
that it offers to God what becomes Him in His Infinite
Being. Though it be true that the soul cannot give God
to God anew, because He is always in Himself, still it does

STANZA
Til.

Illustration.

Source of the
soul’s delight,

. —what.

294 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

so, perfectly and wisely, giving all that He has given it in
requital of His love; this is to give as it is given, and God
is repaid by this gift of the soul; nothing less could repay
Him. He receives this gift of the soul as if it were its own,
with kindness and grace, in the sense I have explained; and
in that gift He loves it anew, and gives Himself to it, and
the soul also loves Him anew. Thus, there is in fact a
mutual interchange-of love between the soul and God in the
conformity of their union, and in the matrimonial surrender,
wherein the goods of both, that is the Divine Essence, are
possessed by both together in the voluntary giving up of
each to the other. God and the soul say, the one to the
other, what the Son of God said to His Father, * All My
things are Thine, and Thine are Mine, and I am glorified in
them.’* This will be verified in the fruition of the next life
without intermission, and is verified in the state of union
when the soul’s communion with God energises in an act of
love.

The soul can offer such a gift, though far greater than
itself, just as he who rules over many kingdoms and nations,
though greater than he is, can bestow them upon whom he
will. This is the source of the soul’s great delight, that it
sees itself able to give unto God more than itself is worth,
that it gives Himself to God with such liberality, as if God
were its own, in that Divine light and warmth of love which
He Himself has given it. This is effected in the life to
come through the light of glory and of love, and in this
life by faith most enlightened and by love most enkindled.
Thus it is that the deep caverns of sense, with unwonted
brightness give light and heat together to the Beloved. I say
together, because the communication of the Father and of ©
the Son and of the Holy Ghost in the soul is one; they are
the light and the fire of love therein.

* S. John xvii. 10.

sg "BEAUTY OF THE SOUL IN GOD.
= ¥* 1 must here observe briefly on the perfection of beauty

pe wherewith the soul makes this oblation unto God. In the

act of union, as the soul enjoys a certain image of fruition,
caused by the union of the intellect and affection in God, it
makes this oblation of God to God, and of itself to Him, in
most wonderful ways; delighting itself therein and constrained
thereto. With respect to love, the soul stands before God in
strange beauty, with respect to this shadow of fruition in the
same way, and also with respect to praise and gratitude. As to
the first, that is love, the soul has three grand perfections of
beauty. 1. It loves God by means of God. This is an admir-
able perfection, because the soul, set on fire by the Holy Ghost,
and having the Holy Ghost dwelling within it, loves as the
Father loves the Son, as it is written, ‘that the love wherewith
Thou hast loved Me, may be in them, and Iin them.’* 2. The
second perfection is to love God in God, for in this union the
soul is vehemently absorbed in the love of God, and God com-
municates Himself with great vehemence to the soul. 3. The
third perfection of beauty is that the soul now loves God for
what He is ; for it loves Him not merely because He is boun-
tiful, good, and generous to the soul, but much more, because
He is all this essentially in Himself.

There are also three perfections of beauty with respect to
that shadow of fruition, marvellously great. 1. The soul
enjoys God here, united with God Himself, for as the soul
unites its intellect with wisdom and goodness, and perceives
so clearly — though not so clearly as in the life to come — it
delights greatly in all these things, clearly understood, as I
said before. 2. The second principal perfection of beauty
is that the soul delights itself in God alone without the ad-
mixture of any created thing. 3. The third is that it enjoys
Him alone for what He is, without the admixture of any
selfish feeling, or of any created object,

* S. John xvii. 26.

1. In love.

—

3. In
(1) ‘As the
end of its
creation.

~~ Q) For
received.

(3) For
— God

4. In grati-
tude
(1) For all
benefits.
(2) For the

delight of
praising
God,

(3) For
God in

Himeelf.

‘296 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

There are also three principal perfections of beauty in the
praises of God which the soul offersto Himinunion. 1. The
soul offers it as an act of duty, because it recognises this as
the end of its creation; as it is written, ‘This people have
I formed for Myself, they shall show forth My praise.* 2. The
second is, that it praises Him for blessings received, and
because of the pleasure which the praise of so great a Lord
inspires. 3. The third is, it praises Him for what He is in
Himself, for if the praises of God were unaccompanied by
any pleasure at all, still the soul would praise Him for what
He is. |
Gratitude also involves three’ sttcelpil perfections. 1.
Thanksgiving for all natural and spiritual blessings, and for
all benefits received. 2. The second is the great delight of
praising God, in the way of thanksgiving, for it is moved with
great vehemence to such an act. 3. The third is that the
soul gives thanks unto God only for what He is, which is
much more efficacious and more delightful.

STANZA IV.

How gently and how lovingly

Thou liest awake in my bosom,
Where alone Thou secretly dwellest ;
And in Thy sweet breathing

Full of grace and glory,
How tenderly Thou fillest me with Thy love.

EXPLANATION,

Here the soul turns towards the Bridegroom in great tives
magnifying Him and giving Him thanks for two marvellous
acts which He sometimes effects within the soul through its
union with Himself. The soul too observes on the way He
produces them and on their effects upon itself.

The first effect is the. awakening of God in the soul, and
the way of that is gentleness and love. The second is the

* Is, xliii, 21.

|
|
(*
fi
a

= ai. «OD AWAKES IN THE SOUL. 297
j : breathing of God in the soul, and the way of that is grace

and glory given in that breathing. The effect of this upon
the soul is to make it love Him sweetly and tenderly. The

stanza therefore may be paraphrased as follows : O how gently

and how lovingly dost Thou lie awake in the depth and
centre of my soul, where Thou in secret and in silence alone,
as its sole Lord, abidest, not only as if in Thine own house or
in Thine own chamber, but also as within my own bosom, in
close and intimate union: O how gently and how lovingly!
Sweet to me is Thy breathing in that awakening, for it is full

of grace and glory. O with what tenderness dost Thou in-

spire me with love of Thee! The figure is borrowed from
one awaking from sleep, and drawing his breath, for the soul
in this state feels it to be so.

i. ii. ‘ How gently and how lovingly Thou liest awake in my
bosom.’—The awakenings of God in the soul are manifold,
and so many that were I to describe them I should never end.
This awakening, to which the soul refers here, the work of
the Son of God, is, in my opinion, of the highest kind, and
the source of the greatest good to the soul. This awakening

is a movement of the Word in the depth of the soul of such Its

grandeur, authority and glory, and of such profound sweetness
that all the balsams, all the aromatic herbs and flowers of the
world seem to be mingled and shaken together for the pro-
duction of that sweetness: that all the kingdoms and do-
minions of the world, all the powers and virtues of heaven
seem to be moved; this is not the whole, all the virtues, sub-
stance, perfections and graces of all created things, shine forth
and make the same movement in unison together. For as
S. John saith, ‘what was made in Him was life,’* and in
Him moves and lives; as the Apostle says, ‘In Him we live
and move and are.’ t |

* S. John i. 3; see p. 46. + Acta xvii. 28.

STANZA
IV.

298 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

The reason is this; when the grand Emperor wills to

~ reveal Himself to the soul, moving Himself in the way of

_ How the

giving it light, and yet not moving at all—He upon whose
shoulder is the government,” that is, the three worlds of
Heaven, earth, and hell, and all that is in them, and who sus-
tains all by the word of His power,t—then all seem to move
together. As when the earth. moves, all natural things upon
it move with it; so is it when the Prince moves, for He
bears the court, not the court Him. This, however, is an
exceedingly imperfect illustration ; for here not only all seem
to move, but also to reveal the beauties, power, loveliness of
their being, the root of their duration and lifein Him. There,
indeed, the soul understands how all creatures, higher and
lower, live, continue, and energise in Him, and enters also
into the meaning of these words, ‘By Me kings reign, by Me
princes rule, and the mighty decree justice.’ t

Though it is true that the soul here sees that all these
things are distinct from God, in that they have a created exist-
ence, and understands them in Him in their force, origin, and
strength, it knows also that God in His own essence is, in an
infinitely pre-eminent way, all these things, so that it under-
stands them better in Him, their First Cause, than in them-
selves. This is the great joy of this awakening, namely, to
know creatures in God, and not God in His creatures: this is
to know effects in their causes, and not causes by their effects.

This movement in the soul is wonderful, for God is Himself
immovable. Without movement on the part of God, the soul
is renewed and moved by Him; and the Divine life and Being
and the harmony of creation is revealed unto it with marvel-
lous newness, the cause assuming the designation of the
effects resulting from it. If we regard the effect, we may
say with the Wise Man that God moves, ‘ for Wisdom is more

* Is, ix, 6, + Heb. i. 3, t Prov, viii. 15, 16.

ee ee ee a es

eee Ul ee

ee te eee —

THE SOUL AWAKES IN GOD. 299

) active than all active things,’* not because it moves itself

but because it is the source and principle of all motion, and
‘remaining in herself the same, reneweth all things ;’ f this
is the meaning of the words, ‘more active than all active
things.’

Thus then, strictly speaking, it is the soul itself that is
moved and awakened, and the expression ‘ awake’ is correct.
God however being always, as the soul sees Him, the Mover,
the Ruler, and the Giver of life, power, graces, and gifts to
all creatures, contains all in Himself, virtually, presentially,
and supremely. The soul beholds what God is in Himself,
and what He is in creatures. So may we see, when the palace
is thrown open, in one glance, both the magnificence of him
who inhabits it, and what he is doing. This, according to
my understanding of it, is this awakening and vision of the
soul; it is as if God drew back some of the many veils and
coverings that are before it, so that it might see what He is;
then indeed—but still obscurely, because all the veils are not
drawn back, that of faith remaining—the Divine face full of
grace bursts through and shines, which, as it moves all things
by its power, appears together with the effect it produces, and
this is the awakening of the soul.

Though all that is good in man comes from God, and
though man of himself can do nothing that is good, it may be
said in truth, that our awakening is the awakening of God,
and our rising the rising of God. ‘ Arise, why sleepest Thou,

© Lord?’t saith the Psalmist. That is in effect to say,

Raise us up and awake us, for we are fallen and asleep. Thus
then, because the soul had fallen asleep and could never rouse
itself again, and because it is God alone who can open its
eyes, and effect its awakening, this awakening is most pro-
perly referred to God: ‘Thou liest awake in my bosom.’

* Wisd. vii. 24, + Ib. 27. t Ps. xliii. 23.

®
>

How can the
soul bear this
Divine com-

munication ?

300 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE,

ii. ‘Thou liest awake in my bosom.’ Awake us, O Lord, and
enlighten us, that we may know and love those good things
which Thou hast set always before us, and that we may know
that Thou art moved to do us good, and hast had us in remem-
brance. It is utterly impossible to describe what the soul, in
this awakening, knows and feels of the goodness of God, in the
inmost depths of its being, that is its ‘bosom.’ For in the
soul resounds an infinite power, with the voice of a multitude
of excellences, of thousands of thousands of virtues, wherein
itself abiding and subsisting, becomes ‘ terrible as an army set
in array,’ * sweet and gracious in Him who comprehends in
Himself all the sweetness, and all the graces of His creation.

But here comes the question, how can the soul bear so

vehement a communication while in the flesh, when in ~

truth it has not strength for it without fainting away? The
mere sight of Assuerus on his throne, in his royal robe, glitter-
ing with gold and precious stones, was so terrible in the eyes
of Esther, that she fainted through fear, so awful was his face.
‘I saw thee, my Lord, as an angel of God, and my heart was
troubled, for fear of thy Majesty.’ f Glory oppresses him who
beholds it, if he be not made glorious by it. How much more
then is the soul now liable to faint away, when it beholds not.
an angel but God Himself, the Lord of the angels, with His
face full of the beauty of all creatures, of terrible power and
glory, and the voice of the multitude of His excellences. It
is to this that Job referred when he said, ‘ We have heard
scarce a little drop of His word; who shall be able to behold
the thunder of His greatness?’ t and again, ‘I would not
that He should contend with me with much strength, lest He
should overwhelm me with the weight of His greatness.’§
The soul, however, does not faint away and tremble at this
awakening so powerful and glorious. There are two reasons

* Cant. vi.9. ft Esth.xv.16. { Job xxvi.l4, § Ib, xxiii. 6,

‘
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a ~ an Sek * Ye SU | a Ps = -_
j ——

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bd I Pi .
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for this 1. It is now in the state of perfection, and therefore
____ the lower portion of it is purified and conformed to the spirit.

It is in consequence exempt from that pain and loss which
spiritual communications involve, when the sense and spirit

are not purified and disposed for the reception of them. 2. 2.

The second and the principal reason is that referred to in the
first line of this stanza, namely that God shows Himself
gentle and loving. For as He shows His greatness and glory
to the soulin order to comfort and exalt it, so does He favour
and strengthen it also, and sustain its natural powers while
manifesting His greatness gently and lovingly. This is easy
enough to Him, who with His right hand protected Moses,
so that he might behold His glory.*

Thus the soul feels God’s love and gentleness to be commen-
surate with His power, authority, and greatness, for in Him
these are all one. Its delight is therefore vehement, and the
protection it receives strong in gentleness and love, so that
itself being made strong may be able without fainting away
to sustain this vehement joy. Esther, indeed, fainted away,
but that was because the king seemed unfavourable towards
her, for with ‘burning eyes’ he ‘showed the wrath of his
heart,’f but the moment he looked graciously upon her,
touched her with his sceptre and kissed her, she recovered
herself, for he said to her, ‘I am thy brother, fear not.’ So is it
with the soul in the presence of the King of kings, for the
moment He shows himself as its Spouse and Brother, all
fear vanishes away. Because in showing unto it, in gentleness
and not in anger, the strength of His power and the love of His
goodness, He communicates to it the strength and love of His
breast, ‘leaping from His throne’ t{ to caress it, as the bride-
groom from his secret chamber, touching it with the sceptre of
His Majesty, and asa brother embracing it. There the royal

* Exod, xxxiii, 22. + Esth, xv. 10, t Ib. xv. 11

302 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

stanza robes and the fragrance thereof, whichare the marvellous attri-

butes of God; there the splendour of gold,which is charity, and
the glittering of the precious stones of supernatural know-
ledge; and there the face of the Word full of grace, strike the
queenly soul, so that, transformed in the virtues of the King
of Heaven, it beholds itself a queen: with the Psalmist there-
fore may it be said of it, and with truth, ‘ The queen stood on
Thy right hand in gilded clothing, surrounded with variety.’ *
And as all this passes in the very depths of the soul, it is
added immediately, ‘Where alone Thou secretly dwellest.’

iii. ‘Where alone Thou secretly dwellest.’-—He is said to
dwell secretly in the soul’s bosom, because, as I have said, this
sweet embracing takes place in the inmost substance and
powers of the soul. We must keep in mind that God dwells
in a secret and hidden way in all souls, in their very sub-
stance, for if He did not, they could not exist at all. This
dwelling of God is very different in different souls; in some
He dwells alone, in others not; in some He dwells contented,
in others displeased; in some as in His own house, giving His
orders, and ruling it; in others, asa stranger in a house
not His own, where He is not permitted to command, or to do
anything at all. Where personal desires and self-will least
abound, there is He most alone, most contented, there He
dwells as in His own house, ruling and directing it, and the
more secretly He dwells, the more He is alone.

So then in that soul wherein no desire dwells, and out of
which all images and forms of created things have been cast,
the Beloved dwells most secretly Himself, and the purer
the soul and the greater its estrangement from everything
but God, the more intimate His converse and the closer His
embrace. He thus dwells in secret; for Satan himself cannot
penetrate this secrecy, nor discover this converse, nor ‘can

* Ps, xliy. 10.

a

lies
—
‘

a \--_"

Oe

-— "cn genaaaiaia idliek visit ac. 303

i
RB EE But in this secrecy

He is not hidden from the soul in the state of perfection,

for such a soul is ever conscious of His presence. Only in

these awakenings He seems to awake who before was asleep
in the soul’s bosom; and though it felt and enjoyed His
presence, He seemed as one sleeping within.

_ O how blessed is that soul ever conscious of God reposing

and resting Himself within it. How necessary it is for such sb

a soul to flee from the matters of this world, to live in great
tranquillity, so that nothing whatever shall disturb the
Beloved ‘ at His repose.’ *

He is there as it were asleep in the embraces of the soul,
and the soul is, in general, conscious of His presence, and, in
general, has the fruition of it most deeply. If He were always
awake in the soul, the communications of knowledge and love
would be unceasing, and that would be a state of glory. IfHe

awakes but once, merely opening His eyes, and affects the -

soul so profoundly, what would become of it if He were con-
tinually awake within it?

He dwells secretly in other souls, those which have not
attained to this state of union, not indeed displeased, though
they are not yet perfectly disposed for union: these souls in
general are not conscious of His presence, but only during
the time of these sweet awakenings, which however are not
of the same kind with those already described, neither indeed
are they to be compared with them. But the state of these
souls is not secret from the devil and the intellect, like that
of the others, because the senses always furnish some indica-
tions of it by the excitement into which they are thrown.
The senses are not perfectly annihilated before the union is
complete, and they manifest their power in some degree,
because they are not yet wholly spiritual. But in this

* Cant. i. 11.

STANZA
IV.

Its nature
and effects.

‘ | Y
304 THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE. .

awakening of the Bridegroom in the perfect soul, all is perfect
because He effects it all Himself in the way I have spoken
of. In this awakening, as of one aroused from sleep and
drawing breath, the soul feels the breathing of God, and
therefore it says: ‘In Thy sweet breathing.’

iv. v. vi. ‘And in Thy sweet breathing, full of grace and
glory, how tenderly Thou fillest me with Thy love.’—I would

not speak of this breathing of God, neither do I wish to do so,

because I am certain that I cannot; and indeed were I to speak
of it, it would seem then to be something less than what itis in
reality. This aspiration of God is an act of His in the soul,
whereby in the awakening of the deep knowledge of the
Divinity, He breathes into it the Holy Ghost according to the
measure of that knowledge which absorbs it most profoundly,
which inspires it most tenderly with love according to what
it saw. This breathing is full of grace and glory, and there-
fore the Holy Ghost fills the soul with goodness and glory,
whereby He inspires it with the love of Himself, transcend-
ing all glory and all understanding. This is the reason why
I quit the subject,

ie

Z

INSTRUCTIONS AND CAUTIONS

TO BE CONTINUALLY OBSERVED BY HIM WHO SEEKS TO BE
A TRUE RELIGIOUS AND TO ARRIVE QUICKLY AT GREAT
PERFECTION.

= 4

Ir any Religious desires to attain in a short time to holy
recollection, spiritual silence, detachment, and poverty of
spirit—where the peaceful rest of the spirit is enjoyed, and §
union with God attained ; if he desires to be delivered from ;,
all the difficulties which created things put in his way, to be
defended against all the wiles and illusions of Satan, and to be
protected against himself, he must strictly practise the follow-
ing instructions.

If he will do this, with but ordinary attention, without other
efforts or other practices, at the same time carefully observing
what his rule prescribes, he will advance rapidly to great
perfection, acquire all virtues in succession, and attain unto
holy peace.

How to over-
come the
three

spiritual
enemies :
1. The World,
2. The Devil,
3, The Flesh.

All the evils to which the soul is subject proceed from three

sources: the world, the devil, and the flesh. If we can hide
ourselves from these we shall have no combats to fight. The
world is less difficult, and the devil more difficult, to under-
stand; but the flesh is the most obstinate of all, and the last
to be overcome together with the ‘old man,’ If we do not
conquer the three, we shall never conquer one; and if we
conquer one, we shall alsé conquer the others in the same
proportion.
x2

eee
against the

He most
worthy of
love who is

nearest to
God, Who is
Love,

308 INSTRUCTIONS AND CAUTIONS ee

In order to escape perfectly from the evils which the world
inflicts, there are three cautions to be observed.

FIRST CAUTION.

The first is, preserve an equal love and an equal for-
getfulness of all men whether relatives or not : withdraw your
affections from the former as well as from the latter, yea
even rather more from the former, on account of the ties
of blood, for fear lest the natural affections, which men always
feel for their kindred, should thereby revive again. You must
mortify this affection if you are to attain unto spiritual
perfection. Look upon your kindred as strangers, and you
will thereby the more completely discharge the obligations
which they impose upon you; for by not withdrawing your
heart from God on their account, you will fulfil your duties
towards them better by not giving to them those affections
which are due unto God. |

Do not love one man more than another, for if you do you
will fall into error. He whom God loves most is the most
worthy of love, and you do not know who he is. But if you
labour to forget all men alike— as holy recollection requires
you to do—you will escape all error, whether great or small.
Do not think about them; have nothing to say about
them either good or bad. Avoid them as much as you
possibly can. If you do not observe this, as things go, you
never will become a good religious, you will never attain
to holy recollection, nor will you get rid of your imperfec-
tions. If you will indulge yourself here, Satan will in some
way or other delude you, or you will delude yourself under
the pretence of good or evil.

If you will observe this direction you will be safe; and in
no other way will you ever get rid of the imperfections and
escape the evils which result to yeur soul from intercourse
with men.

or

_ The second caution against the world relates to temporal ptr

IN REGARD TO THE WORLD. 309

SECOND CAUTION.

goods. If you desire in earnest to escape the evils which ——s

— =—\ =,

worldly goods occasion, and restrain your excessive desires,

- you must hold all personal possession in abhorrence, and cast

from you every thought about it. You must not be solici-
tous about what you eat or drink or wear, or about any
created thing whatever: you must not be ‘solicitous for
to-morrow,’ but occupy yourself with higher things—with the
Kingdom of God, that is, fidelity unto Him—than with all
these things which, as He says in the Gospel, ‘shall be added
unto you.’* He who takes care of the beasts of the field will
not forget you. If you do this you will attain unto silence,
and have peace in your senses,

THIRD CAUTION.

The third caution is most necessary, that you may avoid all
evil in relation to the other Religious of the Community. Many
persons from not heeding this have not only lost their peace
of mind, but have also fallen, and fall daily, into great dis-
orders and sin. Be especially careful never to let your mind
dwell upon, still less your tongue to speak of, what is passing
in the Community, its past or its present state. Do not speak
of any Religious in particular, do not discuss his condition or
his conversation, or anything that belongs to him, however
important, either under the cloak of zeal, or of remedying
what seems amiss, except only to him who of right should be

' spoken to, and then at the fitting time. Never be scandalised

_ or surprised at what you see or hear, and labour to preserve

yourself in complete oblivion ofall. If you lived among the
Angels and gave heed to what was going on, many things would

* S. Matth, vi. 33,

—

HI

310 INSTRUCTIONS AND CAUTIONS

seem to you not to be good, because you do not understand
them.

Take warning from the example of Lot’s wife who, because
she was disturbed at the destruction of Sodom, looked back
to behold it. God punished her for this, and she ‘ was turned
into a pillar of salt.* This teaches you that it is the will of
God, even if you were living among devils, you should so
live as not to turn back in thought to consider what they are
doing, but forget them utterly. You are to keep your soul
in purity before God, and not to suffer the thought of this or
that to disturb you.

Be sure of this, there is no lack of stumbling blocks in
religious houses, because there is no lack of devils who are
always labouring to throw down the saints. God permits this
in order to try them and to prove them, and if you will not
take care of yourself by observing this caution, you will never
become a true Religious, do what you may, neither will
you attain to holy detachment and recollection, or escape the
evils I am speaking of. If you live otherwise, in spite of
your zeal and good intentions, Satan will lay hold of you in
one way or another, and indeed you are already sufficiently
in his power, when your soul is allowed such distractions as
this. Remember those words of the Apostle, ‘If any man
think himself to be religious, not bridling his tongue, this
man’s religion is vain.’{ This is applicable to the interior,
quite as much as to the exterior, tongue—to thoughts as well
as words.

Three cautions to be observed in order to be delivered
from the devil in Religion.

If you wish to escape from Satan in Religion, you must give —
heed to three things, without which you cannot be in safety

* Genes, xix, 26. + S. Jam. i, 26.

IN REGARD TO ‘THE DEVIL. 311

ay = his cunning. In the first place I would have you
take this general advice, which you should never forget,
% namely, that it is the ordinary practice of Satan to deceive

those who are going on unto perfection by an appearance of
good: he does not tempt them by what seemsto beevil. He
knows that they will scarcely regard that which they know to
be wrong. You must therefore continually distrust that
which seems to be good, and especially when obedience does
not intervene. The remedy here is to take the advice of him
who has authority to give it. This then is the

FIRST CAUTION.

Never set about anything, however good and charitable it
may seem, either to yourself or to any other, whether in the
Community or out of it, except under obedience, unless you are
bound to do it by the rule of your Order. If you do this you
will acquire merit, and be in security ; you will be safe against
yourself and against evil; you will also avoid evils of which
you are ignorant, and of which God will require an account
one day. If you do not observe this caution in little things
as well as in great, notwithstanding your apparent success,
Satan will most certainly deceive you little or much. Evenif
your whole error consist in your not being guided in every-
thing by obedience, you are plainly wrong, because God
\.. wills obedience rather than sacrifice,* and the actions of a
Religious are not his own, but those of obedience, and if he
withdraws them from the control of obedience, he will have
to give account of them as lost.

SECOND CAUTION.

The second caution is one very necessary, because the devil
interferes exceedingly in the matter to which it refers. The

* 1 Kings xv, 22.

W

312 INSTRUCTIONS AND CAUTIONS

observance of it brings great gain and profit, and the neglect

of it great loss and ruin. Never look upon your superior, be

- he who he may, otherwise than if you were looking upon

God, in Whose place he stands. Keep a careful watch over
yourself in this matter, and do not reflect upon the character,
ways, or conversation, or habits of your superior. If you do,
you will injure yourself, and you will change your obedience
from divine into human, and you will be influenced by what
you see in your superior, and not by the Invisible God
whom you should obey in him. Your obedience will be in
vain, or the more barren the more you are troubled by the
untowardness, or the more you are pleased by the favour, of
your superior. I tell you that a great many Religious in the
way of perfection have been ruined by not looking upon their
superiors as they ought to have done; their obedience was
almost worthless in the eyes of God, because it was influenced
by human considerations. Unless you force yourself there-
fore to be indifferent as to who your superior may be, so far
as your private feelings go, you will never be spiritual,
neither will you faithfully observe your vows.

THIRD CAUTION.

The third caution directed against Satan is this: strive with
all your heart after humility in thought, word, and work,
taking more pleasure in others than in yourself, wishing to
see them in all things preferred to yourself, and this too with
all your power from a sincere heart. In this way you will
overcome evil with good, drive the devil away, and have joy
in your heart. Labour to do this with respect to those who
are less agreeable to you; for be assured, if you do not,
you will never have true charity nor make progress in it.
Be always more ready to receive instruction than to give it,
even to the least of your brethren.

*
*

—_ | ee i soe es

ae

IN REGARD TO THE FLESH. -313

‘Three cautions to be observed by those who would conquer

z 3 themselves, and master the cunning of the flesh.

FIRST CAUTION.

If you wish to be delivered from the uneasiness and imper- 1.

fections which present themselves before you, in the habits
and conversation of the Religious, and profit by what may
occur, you must keep in mind that you entered the Com-
munity only to be mortified and tried, and that all the inmates
of it are there, as in truth is the case, for the express purpose
of trying you. Some mortify you by words, others by works,
and others by thoughts; in all this you are to submit yourself,
unresisting as a statue to the polisher, the painter, and the
gilder of it. If you do not, you will never be able to live as
you ought with the Religious of your House ; you will not
have holy peace, nor will you deliver yourself from much evil.

SECOND CAUTION.

Never omit any practices, if they are such as befit you,
because they are disagreeable; neither observe them, on
account of the pleasure which results from them, unless they
be as necessary as those which are not agreeable. Otherwise
you will find it impossible to acquire firmness, and conquer
your weakness.

THIRD CAUTION.

Tn all your spiritual exercises never set your eyes upon the
sweetness of them so as to cling to it, but embrace rather
that in them which is unpleasant and troublesome. If you
do not observe this rule, you will never destroy self love, nor
acquire the love of God.

qi

LETTERS.

= oO

LETTER I.

TO MOTHER CATHERINE OF JESUS, A BAREFOOTED CARMELITE AND
COMPANION OF 8S. TERESA OF JESUS.

He informs her of his state since his imprisonment, and gives her
switual lati ;

JESUS

Be in your soul, my daughter Catherine. Although I know
not where you are, I write you these few lines, trusting that
our Mother will forward them to you if you are not with her.
And even should you be absent from her, you may account
yourself happy in comparison with me, who am shut up in so
lonely and distant a prison-house. For since I was swallowed
by that whale, and cast forth upon this distant shore, I have
not been counted worthy to see her or the saints who dwell
near her. God has worked it all for good; for in truth to be
abandoned by creatures serves as a file to free us from the
fetters of earth, and to suffer darkness is the direct way to
the enjoyment of great light.

God grant that we may not walk in darkness. Oh! how
many things would I fain say to you! But I am constrained
to write in enigmas, fearing that you may not receive this
letter ; and therefore I break off without finishing it. Recom-

mend me toGod. Iwill say no more of these parts, for I am
weary.
Your servant in Christ,

Friar Joun or THE Cross.
Bazza : the 6th of July, 1581.

318 LETTERS.

LETTER I.
TO THE RELIGIOUS OF VEAS.

He gives them some spiritual advice, full of heavenly instruction, and worthy
of perpetual remembrance.
JESUS AND MAry

Be in your souls, my daughters in Christ.

_ Your letter greatly consoled me, and may our Lord reward
you for it. It was not from want of will that I have refrained
from writing to you, for truly do I desire for you all possible
good; but because it seemed to me that enough had been
already said to effect all that was needful, and that what is
wanting to you, if indeed anything be wanting, is not writing
or speaking—whereof ordinarily there is more than enough
—but silence and work. For whereas speaking distracts,
silence and action collect the thoughts, and strengthen the
spirit. As soon therefore as a person understands what has
been said to him for his good, he has no further need to hear
or to discuss ; but to set himself in earnest to practise what
he has learnt with silence and attention, in humility,
charity, and contempt of self; not turning aside incessantly
to seek after novelties which serve only to satisfy the desire
in outward things—failing however to satisfy it really—and
to leave it weak and empty, devoid of interior virtue. The
result is unprofitable in every way; for a man who, before he
has digested his last meal, takes another—the natural heat
being wasted upon both—cannot convert all this food into the
substance of his body, and sickness follows. It is most neces-
sary, my daughters, to know how to preserve our spirit beyond
the reach of the devil and of our own sensuality, or we shall
find ourselves unawares at a great loss, and strangers to the
virtues of Christ, and appear in the end with our labour lost
and our work done the wrong way. The lamps which we

WORK, SUFFER, AND BE SILENT. 319

ectioved to be alight will Yo: found extinguished in our
hands, because the breath whereby we thought to keep them
burning has served rather to blow them out. To avert this
evil, and to preserve our spirit, as I have said, there is no
surer remedy than to suffer, to work, to be silent and to close
our senses, accustoming ourselves to solitude, and seeking to
forget and to be forgotten by creatures, and to be indifferent
to whatever may happen, even if the world were to come to
anend. Never fail, whatever may befall you, be it good or
evil, to keep your heart quiet and calm in the tranquillity of
love, that so it may be ready to suffer all things which may
come upon you. For so momentous athing is perfection, and
so priceless the treasure of spiritual joy, that it is God’s will
this should be barely sufficient; for it is impossible to make pro-
gress but by the way of virtuous doing and silent suffering. I
have heard, my daughters, that the soul which is easily drawn
| talk and converse with creatures, pays little heed to the
lemme God; for if it remembered Him, it would be soon

drawn forcibly inwards, loving silence and avoiding all ex-
terior conversation ; as God wills that the soul should delight
|jin Him rather than in any creature, however pleasing and
' profitable it may be. I commend myself to your charitable
prayers ; and do you rest assured that, scant as is my charity,
it is so bound up in you that I never forget those to whom I
owe so much in our Lord. May He be with us all. Amen.

Fr. Joun or THe Cross.
From Granapa: the 22nd of Noy, 1587.

320 LETTERS.

LETTER II.

TO MOTHER ELEANORA BAPTIST, PRIORESS OF THE CONVENT
AT VEAS.

The Blessed Father consoles her under an affliction which she
was suffering.
JESUS
Be in your soul. Think not, my daughter in Christ, that
I have not sorrowed over your labours and sufferings, and
those of your companions; though when I consider that as
God has called you to an apostolical life, that is to a life
of contempt, He is now leading you in that way, I cannot
but rejoice thereat. God wills, indeed, that Religious be so
wholly and absolutely Religious that they shall have done
with all things, and that all things shall have done with
them; inasmuch as He is pleased to be their riches, their
consolation, their glory, and their bliss. God has, moreover,
conferred a great grace upon your Reverence, for now, for-
getting all other things, you may enjoy Him to the utmost
of your desire, caring nothing, in your love of God, for
what may come upon you, since you are no longer your own,
but His. Let me know whether your departure is certain,
and whether the Mother Prioress is coming. I commend
myself especially to my daughters Magdalen and Anna and
the rest, not having leisure to write to each of them
separately.
Fr. Jonn oF THE Cross.

From GranaDa: the 8th February, 1588.

7
i?

321

CARMELITES OF CARAVACA.

He makes known to her by a prophetical inspiration the state of her soul,
and delivers her from scruples.

JESUS

’ Be in your soul. How long, my daughter, will you need to
be carried in the arms of others? I desire now to see in you
a great detachment of spirit, and such a freedom from any

_ dependance upon creatures, that all the powers of hell may
be unable to disturb you. What useless tears have you been
shedding in these last days! How much precious time, think
you, have these scruples caused you to throw away? If you
would communicate your troubles to me, go straight to that
spotless mirror of the Eternal Father— His only Begotten
Son; for there do I daily behold your soul, and without doubt
you will come away consoled, and have no more need to beg
at the door of beggars.

Your servant in Christ,

Fr. Joun or THE Cross.
From GranabDa.

LETTER V.
TO THE SAME RELIGIOUS.
On the same subject.

’ Jesus
Be in your soul, dearest daughter in Christ. Though you
say nothing to me I have something to say to you; and that
is, to bid you close the entrance of your soul to those vain
fears which make the spirit cowardly. Leave to our Lord
VOL. II. Y

* TT ee.
Psd Bi
ay

;

322 LETTERS.

that which He has given and daily gives, and think not to
measure God by the narrowness of your own capacity, for
not thus must we deal with Him. Prepare yourself to
receive a great grace from our Lord.

Your servant in Christ,

Fr. Joun oF THE CROSS.
From GRANADA,

LETTER VL
TO THE SAME RELIGIOUS.

The Holy Father informs her of the foundation of the monastery at Cordova,
and of the removal of the community of Nuns in Seville,

JESUS

Be in your soul. I wrote to you in haste when I left Granada
for the foundation at Cordova. I have since received your
letter there, and those of the gentlemen who went to Madrid,
thinking that they should find me at the congregation. You
must know, however, that this meeting has never taken place,
for I have been waiting to finish these visitations and founda-
tions which our Lord has hastened forward in such wise that
there has been no time to spare. The Friars have been received
at Cordova with the greatest joy and solemnity on the part of
the whole city. No Order has been better received there.
All the Clergy and Confraternities of Cordova assembled
together on the occasion, and there was a solemn procession
of the Most Holy Sacrament from the Cathedral Church—
all the houses being hung with tapestry—with great con-
course of people, as on the Feast of Corpus Christi.

This took place on the Sunday after Ascension Day, and
the Bishop preached, praising us much in his sermon. The
house is in the best part of the city, and belongs to the
Cathedral. I am now busied at Seville with the removal of

ean Ste .- «

‘

Vs 1... ee ee

ie ae aS a sl OL” ol poe
“e-yil oe | ey ee £4 ~
a re Pl y

CARMELITE FOUNDATIONS. 323

' = or Nuns who have bought one of the principal houses at a

cost of about 14,000 ducats, being worth more than 20,000.

They are now established there. His Eminence the Cardinal

is to place the Blessed Sacrament in their chapel with great

solemnity on the Feast of 8. Barnabas. Before my depar-
ture I intend to establish another house of Friars here, so
that there will be two of our Order in Seville. Before the
Feast of 8..John I shall set forth for Ecija, where, with the
Divine blessing, we shall found another; thence to Malaga ;
and then to the congregation. I wish I had authority to
make this foundation, as I had for the others. I do not
expect much difficulty; but I hope in God that so it will be,
and at the congregation I will do what I can; and you may
say so to these gentlemen to whom I am writing.

_ Be pleased to send me the little book containing the Stanzas
of the Spouse, which I think Sister of the Mother of
God will by this time have copied for me. Remember to
present my humble respects to Sefor Gonzalo Munoz, to
whom I do not write for fear of being troublesome to him,

- and because your Reverence will make known to him that

which I have here related to you.

Dearest Daughter in Christ,
Your Servant,

Fr. Joun or Tue Cross.

From Sevitie: June, 1588,

. v2

324 LETTERS.

LETTER VII.

TO F. AMBROSE MARIANO OF 8. BENEDICT, PRIOR OF MADRID.
Containing wholesome instructions for the training of Novices.

JESUS

Be with your Reverence. Our need of Religious is very great,
as your Reverence knows, for the multitude of foundations
which we are making. It is therefore necessary that your
Reverence should have patience and allow Father Michael to
leave this place, and wait at Pastrana for the Father Provin-
cial; the Foundation of the Convent of Molina being nearly
completed. It has seemed good to the Fathers also to assign
to your Reverence a Sub-Prior, and they have made choice
of Father Angelo for that office, believing that he will agree
perfectly with the Prior, which is a point of the utmost im-
portance in every religious house. Your Reverence will give
to each of these Fathers his letters, and will not fail to take
care that no Priest meddle or converse with the Novices, it
being well known to your Reverence that nothing is more
injurious to them than to pass through many hands, or to
be managed by any but their own master. Since, however,
you have so many under your care, it is reasonable that your
work should be lightened by the assistance of Father Angelo.
You can therefore give him the necessary authority, as the
authority of Sub-Prior is also conferred upon him to give
him greater weight in the house.

It seemed that Father Michael was no longer much needed
here, and that he might do greater service to the Order else-
where. Of Father Gratian I have nothing new to commu-

icate. Father Antony is now here.

Fr. JoHN oF THE Cross.
From Sreovra: Noy. 9, 1588.

Se ee ee err

LETTER VII.

TO A YOUNG LADY, AT MADRID, WHO DESIRED TO BECOME
A BAREFOOTED CARMELITE, AND WHO WAS AFTERWARDS
PROFESSED IN A CONVENT AT ARENAS, IN NEW CASTILE,
AFTERWARDS TRANSFERRED TO GUADALAXARA.

JESUS

Be in your soul. Your messenger came at a time when I was
unable to reply before he left the place, and now, on his re-
turn, he is waiting for my letter. May God ever grant you,
my daughter, His holy grace, that always and in all things
you may be wholly occupied with His holy love ; for to this are
you bound, inasmuch as for this end He created and redeemed
you. As to the three questions which you have proposed to
me, I could say much more than time and the brevity which
beseems a letter will allow. I will, however, suggest three
points, the consideration of which you will find very profit-
able.

With regard to the sins which God so greatly abhors, that He

was constrained to die because of them, it is expedient, in order

utterly to root them out, and never to commit any, to have
as little intercourse with people as possible, avoiding their
society, and conversing with them only when strictly obliged
to do so. For allsuch conversation, beyond what necessity or
the reason absolutely requires, has never profited any man,
however holy he may have been. To this watchfulness add
an exact and loving observance of the law of God.

With regard to the Passion of Our Lord, endeavour to
chastise your body with discretion, to hate and to mortify
yourself, and never in anything to follow your own will and
your own inclination, seeing that these were the causes of
His death and passion. Whatever you may do, do it all under
the advice of your director. As to the third point, the con-
templation of heavenly glory, to meditate upon and love it

326 LETTERS.

aright, we must hold all the riches of the world and all its
pleasures to be mere dross, and vanity, and weariness, as, in
truth, they are; and make no account of anything, however
great and precious it may be, but only to become pleasing to
God ; because the best things here below, when compared with
the eternal good for which God created us, are vile and bitter;
and yet, brief as is their bitterness and deformity, it shall abide
for ever in the soul which has chosen them for its portion.

I have not forgotten your matter; but at present, much
as I desire it, I can do nothing for its furtherance. Recom-
mend it earnestly to our Lord, and take our Lady and §.
Joseph as your advocates with Him. —

Remember me especially to your mother, to whom, as
well as to yourself, this letter is addressed; and do you both
pray for me, and in your charity ask your friends to do the
same. May God give you His Spirit.

Fr. JoHN oF THE Cross.

From Seeovra : February, 1589.

LETTER IX,

TO A SPIRITUAL SON IN RELIGION, TEACHING HIM HOW TO
OCCUPY HIS WILL WITH GOD BY WITHDRAWING IT FROM
PLEASURE AND JOY IN CREATED THINGS.

The peace of Jesus Curist, my son, be ever in your soul.

I have received the letter of your Reverence, wherein you
tell me of the great desire you have, given you by Our Lord,
to occupy your will with Him alone, loving Him above all
things, and wherein you also ask me for directions how to
obtain your end. I rejoice that God has given you such —
holy desires, and I shall rejoice the more at their fulfilment.
Remember then that all pleasure, joy, and affections come
upon the soul through the will and the desire of those things

:
>

re eS
.

NOTHING GOOD BUT GOD. 327

which seem good, befitting, and pleasurable. Now, because
these things seem to be pleasing and precious, the affections
of the will are attracted by them, and the will hopes for them,
delighting in them when it possesses them, and dreads the
loss of them. The soul, therefore, by reason of these affec-
tions and joys, is disturbed and disquieted.

In order then to annihilate and mortify these emotions of

_ pleasure in all things that are not God, your Reverence will

observe, that everything in which the will can have a distinct
joy is sweet and delectable, because pleasant in its eyes; but
no delectable thing in which it can have joy and delight can
be God, for as God is not cognisable by the apprehensions of ©
the other faculties, neither can He be by the pleasure and
desires of the will. In this life, as the soul cannot taste of
God essentially, so all the sweetness and delight of which it is
capable, and, however great it may be, cannot be God, for
whatever the will takes pleasure in and desires as a distinct
thing, it desires so far as it knows it to be that which it longs
for. For as the will has never tasted of God as He is, nor
ever known Him under any apprehension of the desire, and
cannot therefore comprehend what He is, so its taste can
never know what He is; its very being, desire, and taste can
never know how to desire God, because He is above and be-
yond all its powers.

It is, therefore, plain that no distinct object among those
in which the will rejoices, can be God; and for that reason,
if it is to be united with Him, it must empty itself, cast away
every disorderly affection of the desire, every satisfaction it
may distinctly have, high and low, temporal and spiritual, so
that, purified and cleansed from all unruly satisfactions, joys
and desires, it may be wholly occupied, with all its affections,
in loving God. For if the will could in any way compre-
hend God and be united with Him, it cannot be through any
capacity of the desire, but only by love; and as all delight,

328 LETTERS.

sweetness, and joy, of which the will is sensible, is not love, —
it follows that none of these pleasing impressions can be the .
adequate means of uniting the will to God: those means are
really an act of the will.

Now, as an act of the will is perfectly distinct from the feel-
ing which attends it, it is by that act that union with God is
wrought—that act ends in Him, and is love; and not by the
impressions and apprehensions of the desire which are in the
soul as ends themselves, and not as means of union. True,
these impressions may serve as motives of love, if the will
uses them for the purpose of advancing, and not otherwise.
These sweet impressions of themselves do not lead the soul
to God, but rather cause it to rest upon them: but an act of
the will to love God causes the soul to put its whole affection,
joy, delight, contentment, and love in Him only, casting
everything else aside, and loving Him above all things.

For this reason, then, if any one is moved to love God by
that sweetness he feels, he casts that sweetness away from
him, and fixes his love upon God, Whom he does not feel;
but if he allowed himself to rest in that sweetness and delight
which he feels, dwelling wpon them with satisfaction, that
would be to love the creature, and that which is of it, and to
make the motive an end. The issue then would be that the
act of the will would be vitiated, for as God is incomprehen-
sible and inaccessible, the will, in order to direct its act of
love unto God, must not direct it to that which is tangible
and capable of being reached by the desire, but must direct
it to that which it cannot comprehend nor reach thereby. In
this way the will loves that which is certain and true, to the
satisfaction of faith, in emptiness and darkness as to its own
feelings, above all that it can understand by the operations of
the intellect, believing and loving in a higher way than that
of the understanding.

-He then is very unwise, who, when sweetness and spiritual
. delight fail him, thinks for that reason that God also has

PPO FF NS LS eS eS ee ee
’

LOVE GOD FOR GOD’S SAKE. 329

(ia failed him; and when he has that sweetness and delight,

rejoices and is glad, thinking for that reason that God is
with him. More unwise still is he who goes about seeking
for sweetness in God, rejoices in it, and dwells upon it; for, in
so doing, he is not seeking after God with the will grounded
in the emptiness of faith and charity, but only in spiritual
sweetness and delight, which is a created thing, following
herein his own will and fond pleasure. Such an one does not
love God purely above all things; that is, the whole strength
of the will is not directed to God only; for by clinging to
and resting on the creature by desire, the will cannot ascend
upwards beyond it to God Who is inaccessible. It is impos-
sible for the will to attain to the sweetness and delight of the
Divine union, to feel the sweet and loving embraces of God,
otherwise than in detachment, in refusing to the desire every
pleasure in the things of Heaven and earth, for that is the
meaning of those words of the Psalmist: ‘Open thy mouth
wide, and I will fill it.2* Now, in this place ‘the mouth’ of
the will is desire: that mouth opens, when not filled or
hindered with the morsels of its own satisfactions: for when
the desire is intent upon anything, it is then shut, because out
of God everything is shut up.-

The soul then that is to advance straightway unto God,
and to be united with Him, must keep the mouth of the will
open, but only for God Himself, in detachment from every
morsel of the desire, in order that God may fill it with His
own love and sweetness: it must hunger and thirst after
God alone, seeking its satisfaction in nothing else, seeing that

_ in this life it cannot taste Him as He is. That which may be

tasted here, if there be a desire for it, hinders the taste of God.

This is what the prophet Isaiah teaches when he says:
* All you that thirst come to the waters.’ + He invites all who
thirst for God only to come to the fulness of the Divine waters

* Psalm Ixxx. 11. ¢ Isaiah lv. i.

330 LETTERS.

of the union with Him: namely, those who have ‘no money’
of the desire. It is most expedient then, for your Reverence,
if you wish to have great peace in your soul, and_ to reach
perfection, to give up your whole will to God, that it may be
united to Him, and utterly detached from the mean and vile
occupations of earth. May His Majesty make you as spiritual
and as holy as I desire you may be.
Fr. JOHN OF THE CRoss.
Sreovra, April 14, 1589,

LETTER X.

TO MOTHER LEONORA OF S. GABRIEL, A BAREFOOTED CARMELITE
NUN.

The Holy Father having sent her from the Convent of ‘Seville to
Sound that of Cordova, gives her some spiritual instruction concern-
ing interior solitude and the good government of her Community.

JESUS

Be in your soul, my daughter in Christ. Your letter was
very welcome to me, and I thank God that He has been
pleased to make use of you in this foundation, which His
Majesty has done for your greater profit; for the more He is
minded to give us, the more does he enlarge our desires,
even leaving us empty that there may be the more space for
Him to fill with blessings. You shall be well repaid for
those which, for the love of your Sisters, you now leave be-
hind you in Seville; for the immense benefits of God can
only be received and contained by empty and solitary hearts;
and, therefore, because He has a special love for You, our
Lord will have you to be alone for the desire He has to be
your only companion. Your Reverence must therefore apply
your mind to Him alone, and in Him alone content yourself,
that in Him you may find all consolation. And true it is that

GOD OUR ONLY HOME. 331

even were the soul in Heaven, if the will were not bent to

love it, the soul would be still unsatisfied. So is it with
God—though He be ever with us—if our heart be attached to
other things and not fixed on Him alone. I well believes
that those in Seville will be very lonely without your Reverence.
But, perhaps, you have already done all the good there which
you were intended to do, and God wills that you should now
work here, for this will be one of our principal foundations.
To this end, I pray your Reverence to afford all the assistance
you can to the Mother Prioress, with great love and union of
heart in all things; though I know that I have no need ‘to
enforce this upon one of such experience in religion, and so
well instructed in all that is needful for such foundations.
For this reason, we chose your Reverence for this work from
among many less well fitted for it. Be pleased to remember
me particularly to Sister Mary of the Visitation, and to Sister
Joanna of 8. Gabriel, to whom I return thanks for her letter.
May God give your Reverence’ His Holy Spirit.
Fr. JOHN OF THE Cross.
From Sreovr, the 8th of July, 1589.

LETTER XI.

TO MOTHER MARY OF JESUS, PRIORESS OF THE BAREFOOTED
CARMELITES OF CORDOVA.

Containing useful lessons for Religious engaged in the foundation of a
new Convent, of which they are to form the first stones.
JEsus
Be in your soul. You are bound to correspond to the grace
of our Lord in proportion to the welcome which you have
received, the tidings of which have rejoiced my heart. It
was by His appointment that you entered so poor a dwelling,

332 LETTERS.

under the heat of such a burning sun. He would have you
to give edification to the people, and to show them that it is
your vocation to follow Christ in destitution of all things ;
so shall those who come to you hereafter learn in what spirit
they must come. I send you all necessary faculties. Be
very careful whom you receive at first, because such will be
those who follow; and strive to preserve the spirit of poverty
and contempt of all earthly things, being content with God
alone: otherwise be assured that you will fall into a thousand
temporal and spiritual necessities; and that you will never,
and can never, experience greater necessities than those to
which you voluntarily subject your heart: for the poor in —
spirit is content and joyful in the want of all things; having

made very nothingness his all, and having found therein
fulness and freedom in all things. O blessed nothingness,
and blessed hiddenness of heart, which is of such surpassing
virtue, which renders all things subject to the soul, suffering
nothing to bring it into subjection, and leaving every thought
free to burn more and more intensely with love! Salute all the
sisters inour Lord. Tell them that since our Lord has chosen
them for the first stones of this building, they must consider
well what they ought to be, for upon them, as on a strong
foundation, those who follow after them are to be built.
Let them profit by that fervour which God is wont to infuse
into the first founders of a work, to make a wholly new
beginning of the way of perfection ; walking therein in all
humility and entire detachment from all things, both within
and without, no longer at a child’s pace, but with a strong
will conformed to their vocation of mortification and pen-
ance. Let them see that Christ costs them something, and
let them not be like those who are ever seeking their own
ease, and looking for consolation either in God or out of
Him. But let them seek to suffer either in Him or out of
Him, by means of silence, hope, and loving memory. Make

GAIN. GOD BY POSSESSING NOTHING. 333
alll this known to Gabriela and the Sisters at Malaga. To
the others I have already written. God grant you His holy

grace. Amen. Fr. Joun or THE Cross.
From Szeovra: the 28th of July, 1589.

LETTER XI.

TO MOTHER MAGDALEN OF THE HOLY GHOST, A RELIGIOUS OF
THE SAME CONVENT OF CORDOVA.

He treats of the spirit which should mark a new foundation.

JESUS

Be in your soul, my daughter in Christ. I rejoice to see the
good resolution expressed in your letter. I bless God, who
provides for all things! Much need will you have of a
strong purpose in the beginning of this foundation, to bear
) _ poverty, straitness, heat, and labours of all kinds, in such
a manner that none may perceive whether or not all these
things are grievous to you. Consider that for such beginnings
| God will not have delicate and feeble souls, far less such as
are lovers of themselves; and to this end does His Majesty
at such times give a special grace, that they, with moderate
diligence, may advance in all virtues. It is assuredly a
great grace, and a sign of the Divine favour, that, passing by
others, He has led you hither. And though it has cost you
much to forsake what you have left behind, you must not
count it much ; for you must in any case have shortly left it
all. In order to have God in all things, we must have
nothing at all; for how can the heart, given to one, be given

| at all to another ?
I say this also to Sister Joanna, and let her recommend
me to God. May He be in your heart. Amen.

Fr. Joun or tHe Cross.
From Sreovra: the 28th of July, 1589,

334 LETTERS.

LETTER XII.

TO THE LADY JOANNA DE PEDRAGA, A PENITENT OF THE
HOLY FATHER AT GRANADA.

JESUS
Be in your soul. I give Him thanks that He has given me
the grace not to forget the poor, and not to take my ease, as
you suggest. It would be a great pain to me did I believe
that you seriously think what you say. It would be an evil
return on my part for so much kindness, especially when I
have not deserved it. All that is wanting now is that I
should forget you; but consider how that is to be forgotten
which is ever present to the soul. But as you are now
walking in the darkness and emptiness of spiritual poverty,
you imagine that all things and all men are failing you;
nor is this wonderful, since you imagine that God Himself
fails you. And yet in truth there is nothing wanting to
you, nor have you need of aid or counsel from any, all
these doubts and fears being without foundation. He who
desires nothing but God does not walk in darkness, however
blind and poor he may seem to himself to be; and he who
indulges in no presumptuous thoughts, nor seeks his own
satisfaction either in God or in creatures, nor to do his own
will in anything, is in no danger of falling, nor in any need
of counsel. You are in the right path, my daughter; once
for all, be resigned, and live in peace. What! are you to
undertake to guide yourself? You would do it well, no
doubt. You have never been in a better state than now, for
you have never been so humble, so submissive; you have
never made so little account of yourself, nor of all the things
in the world put together; you have never seen yourself to
be so bad, nor God to be so good; you have never served
Him so purely and disinterestedly as now. You are not
running after the imperfections of your own will, seeking
self, as perhaps you once did. What do youmean? What

= THE SAFE ROAD TO HEAVEN. 335

r (om
a

manner of life and conversation do you propose to yourself
' inthis world? In what do you imagine the service of God

to consist, except in abstaining from evil, keeping His com-
mandments, and using our whole power and strength in
doing His will? When we do this, what need have we of
other imaginations, other lights, other consolations gathered
here and there, in which ordinarily lurk many snares and
dangers to the soul, which is deceived and led astray by its
appetites and perceptions: its very faculties cause it to err.
It is therefore a singular grace from God when He so darkens
and impoverishes the soul as to leave in it nothing which can
lead it astray. And that it may not go astray, it has nothing
to do but to walk in the beaten path of the laws of God and
of the Church, living solely by faith, obscure and true, in
assured hope and perfect charity, looking for all its blessings
in Heaven; living here as pilgrims, beggars, exiles, orphans,
desolate wanderers, possessing nothing, and looking for every-
thing above. Rejoice, then, and put your trust in God, who
has given you these tokens that you cam do, nay, that you
ought to do, much for Him. If not, you must not be sur-
prised if He should be angry when He finds you so dull,
seeing that He has placed you in so safe a path, and led you
to so secure a haven. Desire nothing beyond, tranquillise
your soul, which is in a good and safe condition, and go to
communion as usual, Go to confession when you have some
clear matter for the sacrament, but beyond this be not too
eager to speak of your interior. When you have anything
distinct to mention, write to me, and that promptly and
frequently, which you can always do through Dou Anna,
if not through the nuns.

I have been somewhat unwell, but am now much better.
Fr. John Evangelist, however, is still suffering. Recommend
him to God, and me also, my daughter in our Lord.

Fr. Jonn or tue Cross.
From Sxeovia: Oct. 12th, 1580.

336 LETTERS,

LETTER XIV.
TO MOTHER MARY OF JESUS, PRIORESS OF CORDOVA.

Containing much profitable advice to those whose office is to govern and
provide for a Community.

JESUS

Be in your soul. My daughter in Christ, the cause of my
not having written to you for so long a time has been rather
the remote position of Segovia than any want of will. For
my good will has ever been, and I trust in God shall ever be,
the same towards you. I feel for youin all your trials. But
I would not have you take too much thought concerning the
temporal provision for your house, lest God should cease to
take thought for it; and so you should fall into many tem-
poral and spiritual necessities; for it is our over anxious
solicitude which brings us to want. Cast all your care, my
daughter, upon God, and He will nourish you: for He who
has given and will give the greater, will not fail to give the
less.

Take care that the desire to be in want and poor never
fails you, for that instant your spirit will fail you, and your
virtues will become weak. For if in time past: you have
desired poverty, now that you are Superior you should
desire it still more, and love it; for the house must be
ruled, and furnished with virtues and heavenly desires,
rather than by carefulness and arrangements for the things
of this world; inasmuch as our Lord hath bidden us
to take no thought for our food, or for our raiment, or for
to-morrow. What you have to do is to train your own soul
and the souls of your nuns in all perfection in Religion, in
union with God, and rejoicing in Him alone; and I will
assure you of the rest. It seems to me very difficult to
imagine that the other houses will come to your help, when
you are settled in so good a position, and have such excel-

= GC ee -

ee ee ae —_

—F ~ chee * .- 7
nt Ws ar oh ae” “
es Me ll '

fh (~~ 5 a YY oo
4 . i } i< : .

2 e le . nuns. Nevertheless, if I have an opportunity, I will
4 not fail to do what I can for you.

I wish much consolation to the Mother Sub-Prioress,

. a and I trust in our Lord that He will give it, and strengthen

her to bear her pilgrimage and exile cheerfully for love of

Him.
Many salutations in our Sovereign Good, to my daughters
Magdalen of S. Gabriel, Mary of S. Paul, Mary of the Visi-

_ tation, and Mary of S. Francis. May He be ever with your

spirit, my daughter. Amen.
Fr. JoHN OF THE CROss.

From Maprip: the 20th of June, 1590.

LETTER XV.

TO MOTHER ANNE OF JESUS, A BAREFOOTED CARMELITE OF THE
CONVENT OF SEGOVIA.

He consoles her on his not having been chosen Superior.

JESUS
Be in your soul. Your letter was most grateful to me, and
has added to the obligations I already owe you. That things
have not fallen out as you desired, should be a consolation to
you, and a motive of much thanksgiving to God; because

% His Majesty has thus disposed them to the greater benefit of

us all. It remains only that we submit our will in this, that

we may see it in its true light. For when things befall

us that we do not like, they seem to us evil and contrary,
be they never so good and profitable to our souls. But in
this case there is plainly no evil either to me or to any other.
To me, indeed, it is most favourable ; for being free from the
care of souls, I may, by God’s help, if I like, enjoy peace
and selitude, and the blessed fruit of forgetfulness of self
and of all created things.
VOL. II. Z

338 LETTERS.

And others, also, will receive benefit by my being set
aside ; for so will they be delivered from falling into the

defects which by reason of my miseries they would have

committed. What I beg of you, then, my daughter, is to ©

pray to God that He will continue to me this grace; for I
fear that they will send me to Segovia, and that I shall not
be left at liberty. But I shall do my utmost to escape from
this burthen also. However this may be, Mother Anne of
Jesus will not get out of my hands as she expects, and so
will have no occasion to die of grief at losing the opportu-
nity, as she thinks, of becoming a great saint. But whether
going or staying, wherever or however I may be, I will never
forget her nor blot her out of the book of my remembrance,
because I really desire her eternal good. Now, therefore,
until God gives it in Heaven, let her exercise herself con-
tinually in the virtues of patience and mortification, endea-
vouring to become likened in some measure, through suffer-
ing, to our great God, who was humbled and crucified for us,
because our life here is good for no other end but to imitate
Him. May His Majesty preserve you and make you
increase daily in His love, as His holy and well-beloved

child. Amen.
Fr. JoHN oF THE CROSS.

From Maprup: the 6th of July, 1591.

LETTER XVL

TO MOTHER MARY OF THE INCARNATION, PRIORESS OF THE
SAME CONVENT.

On the same subject as the preceding.

JESUS

Be in your soul. Trouble not yourself, my daughter, about —
what concerns me, since it troubles me not. The only

Aa.

ie.
— EP Pel

} . “thing which grieves me much is to see the blame laid upon
those to whom it does not belong; for the Author of these

; a things is not man, but God, Who knows what is best for

. us, and orders all things for our greater good. Think of

this only, that all is ordained by God. And do you love

where there is no love, and you shall have love. May His
Majesty preserve you, and make you grow in His love.
Amen. —
Fr. JOHN OF THE Cross.
From Maprip: the 6th of July, 1591.

LETTER XVI.
TO DONA ANNA DE PENALOSA.

He informs her of his recent iliness, and congratulates her on the ordination
of a Priest.

JESUS

Be in your soul, my daughter. I have received here in
Peiuela the letter brought me by your servant, and I prize
exceedingly the kindness thus shown to me. I am going
to-morrow to Ubeda, for the cure of a feverish attack,
which, having hung about me for more than a week past,
has obliged me to have recourse to medical treatment. It
is my desire, however, to return here immediately, as I find
great good in this holy solitude. As to the advice you give
me not to go with F, Antony, be assured that in this, as in
all other matters of the kind, I will be careful. I rejoice
greatly to hear that Don Luis is now a priest of God;
may he be so for many a year, and may His Divine Majesty
fulfil all the desires of his soul. Oh, what a blessed state
has he now entered for casting away all solicitude, and
speedily enriching his soul! Congratulate him from
z 2

340 LETTERS,

me. I dare not venture to ask him sometimes to remember _
me in his Mass, though I, as in duty bound, shall always —
remember him; for never shall I, how forgetful soever I be, —
fail to recollect him, closely bound as he is with the sister
whom I ever bear in my memory. I salute my daughter
Dona Inez very heartily in our Lord; and I beg both
brother and sister to pray God for me, that He will be
pleased to prepare me to go speedily to Him.

Now I remember nothing further that I have to write
to you, and besides, the fever will not suffer me to add
any more. But for this, gladly would I write at much

greater length.
Fr. Joun or THE Cross.

From PreNvera: Sept. 21, 1591.

‘THE FOLLOWING IS THE OPINION AND ADVICE WHICH THE

BLESSED FATHER GAVE TOUCHING THE SPIRIT AND
METHOD OF PRAYER OF ONE OF THE NUNS OF HIS
ORDER.

In the affective prayer of this soul, there are, as it seems
to me, five defects, so that I cannot consider her spirit to be

me good. The first is, that she has a great fondness for her
47 own way: and a true spirit consists in great detachment
from all desire. The second is, that she is too confident,

and has too little fear of delusions; in such a case the Spirit
of God is never present to keep a soul from sin.* The third
is, that she is inclined to persuade people into the belief that
she is in a good and high state: this is not the fruit of a
true spirit: for that, on the contrary, would wish to be
lightly esteemed, and despised, and does despise itself.
The fourth and the chief is, that the fruits of humility are
not visible in the state of this soul ; when these gifts—as
she says here—are real, they are ordinarily never commu-

-nicated to the soul without first undoing and annihilating

it in an interior abasement of humility. Now, if they had
wrought this effect in her, she could not fail to say some-
thing, or rather a good deal, about it; because the first sub-
jects that would suggest themselves to her to speak about,
and make much of, are the fruits of humility; and these in

_ their operations are so effectual, that it is impossible to con-

ceal them. Though they are not equally observable in all ap-
prehensions of God, yet these, which she calls Union, are never
found without them. Because a soul is humbled before it is
exalted; and ‘it is good for me that Thou hast humbled
me.’¢ The fifth is, that the style and language she uses do

* Prov. xv. 27. + Prov. xviii. 12. t Psalm ecxviii. 71.

ora ee oe ee

342 LETTERS.

not seem to me those of the spirit she refers to; for that —
spirit teaches a style which is more simple, and free from —
affectation, and which avoids all exaggeration: and such is
not the one before me. All this that she says: God spoke to
me: I spoke to God: seems nonsense.

What I would say is this: she should not be required nor
permitted to write anything on these matters: and her
confessor should not seem to hear of them willingly, except
to disparage and set aside what she has to say. Let her
superiors try her in the practice of virtue only, particularly
in that of contempt of self, humility, and obedience; and
then at the sound of this blow will come forth that gentle-
ness of soul in which graces so great have been wrought.
These tests must be sharp, for every evil spirit will suffer
a good deal for his own credit.

7

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NOTE.
a eh

; These maxims in the earlier editions of the §
works did not exceed a hundred in number. But in i
later editions a new arrangement has been adopted: tl 8
maxims have been classified, and others have been added 8 ;
them, taken from the Treatises anil the cies ae aa
view, apparently, of increasing the number to 365. In this.
the editors have failed, for two of the maxims have k
repeated, and in this translation they are only 363.

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a. )

SPIRITUAL MAXIMS.

PROLOGUE.

O my Gop, sweetness and joy of my heart, behold my soul
for love of Thee will occupy itself with these maxims of love
and light. For though the words thereof are mine, I have
not the meaning and the power, and these are more pleasing
to Thee than the language and the knowledge thereof.
Nevertheless, O Lord, it may be that some may be drawn
by them to serve and love Thee, and profit where I fail:

_ that will be a consolation to me, if through me Thou shalt

find in others what Thou canst not find in me. O my
Lord, Thou lovest discretion, and light, and love, more
than all the other operations of the soul; so then let these
maxims furnish discretion to the wayfarer, enlighten him by
the way, and supply him with motives of love for his jour-
ney. Away, then, with the rhetoric of this world, sounding
words and the dry eloquence of human wisdom, weak and
delusive, never pleasing unto Thee. Let us speak to the
heart words flowing with sweetness and love, and such as Thou
delightest in. Thou wilt be pleased herein, O my God, and
it may be that Thou wilt also remove the hindrance and the
stones of stumbling from before many souls who fall through
ignorance, and who for want of light wander out of the right
way, though they think they are walking in it, and following
the footsteps of Thy most sweet Son Jesus Christ our Lord,
and imitating His life, estate, and virtues according to the rule

, BAS

346 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS.

of detachment and of spiritual poverty. But, O Father of . :

mercy, do Thou give us this grace, for without Thee, O Lord,
we shall do nothing.

I.
IMITATION OF CHRIST.

1. There is no progress but in the imitation of Christ,
who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, and the Gate by which
he who will be saved must enter. Every spirit, therefore,
that will walk in sweetness at its ease, shunning the imitation
of Christ, is, in my opinion, nothing worth.

2. Your first care must be to be anxiously and lovingly
earnest in your endeavours to imitate Christ in all your
actions; doing everyone of them to the uttermost of your
power, as our Lord Himself would have done them.

3. Every satisfaction offered to the senses which is not for
God’s honour and glory you must renounce and reject for
the love of Jesus Christ, Who, while upon earth, had, and
sought for, no other pleasure than doing the will of His
Father; this, He said, was His meat and drink.

4, In none of your actions whatever should you take any —
man, however holy he may be, for your example, because
Satan is sure to put his imperfections forward so as to attract
your attention. Rather imitate Jesus Christ, Who is supremely
perfect and supremely holy. So doing you will never fall
into error.

5. Inwardly and outwardly live always crucified with
Christ, and you will attain unto peace and contentment of
Spirit, and in your patience you shall possess your soul.

6. Let Christ crucified alone be enough for you; with Him
suffer, with Him take your rest, never rest nor suffer without
Hinr; striving with all your might to rid yourself of all
selfish affections and inclinations im the annihilation of self.

, ae
.-
# “F-

“_—oee- ee

ss HAPPINESS AND GLORY OF THE CROSS. 347

7. He who makes any account whatever of himself, neither

S a - denies himself nor follows Christ.

8. Love tribulations more than all good things, and do not
imagine that you are doing anything when you endure them;
so shall you please Him who did not hesitate to die for you.

9. If you wish to attain to the possession of Christ, never
seek Him without the Cross.

10. He who seeks not the Cross of Christ, seeks not the

glory of Christ.

11. Desire to make yourself in suffering somewhat like
our great God, humiliated and crucified; for life, if not an
imitation of Him, is worth nothing.

12. What does he know who does not know how to suffer
for Christ? The greater and the heavier the sufferings—when
suffering is in question—the better is his lot who suffers.

13. All men desire to enter into the treasures and consola-
tions of God; but few desire to enter into tribulations and
sorrows for the Son of God.

14. Jesus Christ is but little known of those who consider
themselves His friends; for we see them seeking in Him
their own comfort, and not His bitter sorrows.

Il.
THE THEOLOGICAL VIRTUES.

15. Because it is the function of the theological virtues to
withdraw the soul from all that is less than God, it is theirs

also to unite it with Him.

16. Without walking truly in the practice of these three
virtues, it is impossible to attain to the perfect love of God.

FAITH.

17. The way of Faith is sound and safe, and along this
souls must journey on from virtue to virtue, shutting their

348 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. —

eyes against every object of sense and of clear and particular

perception.

18. When the inspirations are from God they are always
in the order of the motives of His Law, and of the Faith, in
the perfection of which the soul should ever draw nearer and
nearer on the way to God.

19. The soul that travels in the light and verities of the
Faith is secured against error, for error proceeds ordinarily
from our own proper desires, tastes, reflections, and under-
standing, wherein there is generally too much or too little;
and hence the inclination to that which is not seemly.

20. By Faith the soul travels protected against the devil,
its strongest and craftiest foe; and S. Peter knew of no
stronger defence against him when he said: Resist him,
strong in faith.

21. The soul that would draw near unto God and unite
itself with Him, must do so by not comprehending rather
than by comprehending, in utter forgetfulness of created
things; because it must exchange the mutable and compre-
hensible for the immutable and the incomprehensible, Who
is God. ;

22. Outward light enables us to see that we may not fall ;
it is otherwise in the things of God, for there it is better not
to see, and the soul, not seeing, is in greater security.

23. It being certain that in this life we know God better
by what He is not than by what He is, it is necessary, if we
are to draw near unto Him, that the soul must deny, to the
uttermost, all that may be denied of its apprehensions, both
natural and supernatural.

24, All apprehension and knowledge of supernatural things
cannot help us to love God so much as the least act of living
Faith and Hope made in detachment from all things.

25. As in natural generation no new form results without
the corruption of the one previously existing—for this obstructs

|
|
.
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a ee nee

til : F animal spirit, the pure and heavenly spirit can never enter

within it.

26. Let no created thing have a place in your heart if you

would have the face of God pure and clear in your soul ;
yea, rather empty your spirit of all created things, and you
will walk in the Divine light; for God resembles no created
thing.
_ 27. The soul is most recollected in Faith; for then the
Holy Ghost gives it light: the more pure and refined the
soul in a perfect living Faith, the greater the infusion of
Charity, and the greater the communication of supernatural
gifts and light.

28. One of the greatest gifts of God to the soul in this life
—not permanent but transient—is that deep sense and
understanding of God by which it feels and understands
clearly, that it can neither understand nor feel Him at all.

29. The soul that leans upon any understanding, sense, or
feeling of its own—all this being very little and very unlike
to God—in order to travel on the right road, is most easily
led astray or impeded, because it is not perfectly blind in
Faith, which is its true guide.

30. There is one thing in our day that ought to make us
afraid: persons who have hardly begun to make their medi-
tations, if they seem to hear anything during their recollec-
tion, pronounce it to have come from God; so they tell us,
God has spoken or I have had an answer from God. In
truth all this is nothing: these persons have been speaking to
themselves, out of a longing for such communications.

31. He who should now enquire of God by vision or reve-
lation would offend Him, because he does not fix his eyes upon
Christ alone. To such an one the answer of God is: This is
my beloved Son, in Whom I am well pleased, hear Him, and

fg...

350 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS.

do not seek for new instructions, for in Him I have spoken _ |
and revealed all that can be asked or desired, and I have
given Him to be your Brother, Master, Companion, Ransom,
and Reward.

32. We must be guided in all things by the teaching of
Christ and His Church, and thereby seek the remedy for our
spiritual ignorances and infirmities: it is thus that we shall
obtain abundant relief; and all that goes beyond this is not
only curiosity but great rashness.

33. You are not to believe that which reaches you in a
supernatural way, but only that which reaches you through
the teaching of Christ and His ministers.

34. The soul that seeks after revelations sins venially at
least ; so does the director who encourages or allows that
seeking, be the end sought never so good: there is no neces-
sity for this, seeing that we have our natural reason and the
Evangelical Law to guide us in all things. :

35. The soul that desires revelations undermines the perfeat
guidance of the Faith, and opens a door for Satan to deceive
it by false revelations; for he knows well how to disguise
them so as to make them appear good.

36. The wisdom of the Saints consists in knowing how to
direct the will courageously to God, in the perfect fulfilment
of His law and His holy counsels.

Il.
HOPE.

37. That which moves and overcomes God is earnest Hope;
in order to attain to the union of love, the soul must journey
in hope of God alone; for without it nothing will be obtained.

38. A living Hope in God gives the soul such courage and
elevation in the things of everlasting life, that it looks on

— HOPE, AND THE FEAR OF GOD. 351

=, & >
____ this world—so indeed it is—as dry, weak, valueless, and dead,
in comparison with that it hopes for hereafter.

39. The soul in Hope strips itself of all the trappings of
this world, setting the heart upon nothing, hoping for nothing
in it or of it, clad in the vesture of hope of everlasting life.

40. Through a living Hope in God the heart is so raised up
above the world and delivered from all its snares, that it can
neither be touched nor even be seen by it.

41. Inall your trials have recourse to God in all confidence,
and you will be comforted, enlightened, and instructed.

42. The soul that retains the slightest desire for earthly
things, is more unseemly and impure in the way of God
than if it were labouring under the heaviest and most
impure temptations, provided the natural will did not consent
to them; such a soul may, with greater confidence, draw
near to God in obedience to the Divine will; for our Lord
hath said: Come unto me all you who labour and are
heavily burdened, and I will refresh you.

43. Have an interior desire that God may give you all He
knows to be needful for you, to His greater honour and glory.

44, Have a continual trust in God, esteeming in yourself
and in your brethren that which He most esteems ; namely,
spiritual good.

45. The more God gives, the more He makes us desire;
until He leaves us empty that He may fill us with His
blessings.

46. So pleased is God with the soul hoping in Him, and
looking to nothing else, that it may be truly said the more
that soul hopes for, the more it obtains.

FEAR OF GOD.
47. If you have sweetness and delight, draw near to God
in fear and in truth, and you will never be deceived nor
entangled in vanity.

352 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS.

48. Do not rejoice in temporal prosperity, because you do
not certainly know that your eternal life is secure.

49. Though a man prosper in all his undertakings, and
though every wish of his heart may be gratified, he ought in
such a case to fear rather than rejoice; for this multiplies the
occasions of forgetting God, and the risks of offending Him.

50. Do not presume upon vain joy ; knowing how many and
how grievous are the sins you have committed, and not know-
ing whether you are pleasing unto God. But always fear
and always hope in God.

51. How can you venture to live without fear, seeing that
you must appear before God to give account of your lightest
words and thoughts ?

52. Lo! many are called and few are chosen; and if you
are not careful, your final ruin is more certain than your
salvation; for the way that leadeth to eternal life is strait.

53. As in the hour of death you will certainly be sorry that
you have not employed all your time in the service of God,
why is it that you do not now so employ your time, as you
will wish you had done when you shall come to die?

IV.
CHARITY.

54. The strength of the soul lies in its faculties, passions,
and desires; if these be directed towards God by the will,
and withdrawn from all that is not God, the soul then keeps
its strength for Him and loves Him with all its might, as our
Lord commands us.

55. Charity is like a fine robe of many colours, which lends —
grace, beauty, and freshness, not only to the white garment
of Faith and the green vesture of Hope, but also to all the
virtues; for without Charity no virtue is pleasing in the
sight of God.

|

g

TEST AND VALUE OF CHARITY. 353

66. The worth of love does not consist in high feelings,

a but j in detachment: in patience under trials for the sake of
a _ God Whom we love.

57. God has a greater esteem for the lowest degree of
purity of conscience, than for the greatest service you can

58. To seek God for Himself is to be without every conso-
lation for His sake: an inclination to the choice of all that

is most unpleasing, whether in the things of God or in the

things of the world; this is to love God.

59. Do not imagine that God is pleased with many good
works, so much as with the doing of them with a good will,
without self-seeking or human respect.

60. Herein a man may know whether he really loves God:
Is he satisfied with anything less than God ?

61. As the hair which is frequently dressed is the cleaner,
and is the more easily dressed upon all occasions, so is it with
the soul which frequently examines its thoughts, words, and
works, doing all things for the love of God.

62. As the hair is to be dressed from the top of the head if
it is to be thoroughly cleansed, so our good works must have
their beginning in the height of the love of God, if they are
to be thoroughly pure and clean.

63. To restrain the tongue and the thoughts, and to set
the affections regularly upon God, quickly sets the soul on
fire in a Divine way.

64. Study always to please God; pray that His will
may be accomplished in you; love Him much, for it is
His due.

65. All our goodness is a loan; God is the owner; God
worketh, and His work is God.

66. We gain more by the goods of God in one hour, than
in our whole life by our own.

67. Our Lord has always manifested the treasures of His

VOL. I. AA

354 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS.

wisdom and His Spirit to men: but’ now that wickedness
manifests itself the more, He manifests them still more.

68. In one sense the purification of a soul from the con-
tradictions of desire is a greater work of God than its creation
out of nothing; that nothing offered no resistance to His
Majesty: not so the desires of the creature.

69. That which God intends is to make us God by parti-
cipation, He being God by nature ; as the fire changes every-
thing into fire.

70. At the close of life you will be examined as to your
love: learn then to love God as He wishes to be loved, and
give up all that is your own.

71. The soul that seeks God wholly, must give itself
wholly to Him.

72. New and imperfect lovers are like new wine, easily
spoiled until the sum of imperfections has been cleared
away, and the heat with gross satisfaction of the senses has
died out.

73. The passions rule over the soul and assail it in propor-
tion to the weakness of the will in God, and to its dependence
on creatures; for then it rejoices so easily in things which
do not deserve to be rejoiced in; hopes for that which is of
no profit, and grieves over that in which perhaps it ought to
rejoice, and fears where there is nothing to be afraid of.

74. They provoke the Divine Majesty to anger exceed-
ingly, who, seeking for spiritual food, are not content with
God only, but intermingle therewith carnal and earthly
satisfactions.

75. He who loves any other thing with God makes light of
Him, because He puts into the balance with Him that which
is at an infinite distance from Him.

76. As a sick man is too weak for work, so the pa that is
weak in the love of God is also too weak for the practice of
perfect virtue.

CHARITY, THE PERFECTION OF THE WILL. 355

‘77, To seek self in God is to seek for comfort and re-
é freshment from God; now this is contrary to the pure
love of God.

78. To regard the gifts of God more than God Himself, is
a great evil.

79. Many there are who seek their own pleasure and
comfort in God, and on whom He bestows His gifts and
graces; but they who seek to please Him and to give Him
something at their own cost—setting their own pleasure aside
—are very few.

80. Few spiritual persons—even among those who think
themselves most advanced—attain to a perfect resolution in
well-doing, for they never entirely lose themselves on some
point or other connected with the world or self, despising
appearances and the opinions of men, so as to make their
good works perfect and in detachment from all things for the
sake of Christ.

81. Self-will and self-satisfaction in the works they do so
prevail among men, whether ordinary or more advanced
Christians, that scarcely one is to be found who works simply
for God without looking for some consolation or comfort or
other advantage in his work.

82. Some souls call God their Spouse and their Beloved ;
but He is not really beloved by them, because their heart is
not whole with Him.

83. What good will it do you if you give God one thing
when He asks something else? Consider what God wills, and
do it, for so will you satisfy your heart better than by doing
that to which you are inclined yourself.

84. To find all satisfaction in God you must be satisfied
with Him only, for in heaven itself, if you did not bend your
will to His will, you would never be satisfied ; so is it here,
if your heart is set upon anything other than God.

85. As aromatic spices exposed to the air gradually lose

aad

365 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS.

their fragrance and the strength of their perfume, so the
soul, not recollected in the love of God alone, loses the heat
and vigour of virtue.

86. He who seeks nothing but God walks not in darkness,
however blind and poor he may be in his own estimation.

87. For a man to be in pain for God is a sign that he has
given himself up to Him, and that he loves Him.

88. He who in the midst of dryness and abandonment is
painfully anxious about God, and afraid that he does not
serve Him, offers Him a sacrifice that pleaseth Him well.

89. When God is really loved, He hears most readily the
ery of the soul that loves Him.

90. The soul defends itself against its fleshly enemy by
charity; for where there is a real love of God neither the
love of self nor the love of creatures can enter in.

91. The loving soul is meek, gentle, humble, and patient;
the soul that is hard in self-love hardens itself still more.
If Thou, O good Jesus, in Thy love dost not make the soul
gentle, it will persist in its natural hardness.

92. The soul that loves is neither wearied nor wearies.

93. Behold the infinite wisdom and the hidden mysteries ;
the peace, the love, the silence of the Divine Bosom; the
deep science God teaches there ; what we call anagogic acts—
ejaculatory prayer—how they set the heart on fire!

94. The perfect love of God cannot subsist without the
knowledge of God and of self.

95. Perfect love naturally seeks nothing, and claims
nothing, for itself, but all for the beloved; if this be the
case with earthly love, how much more with the love of God?

96. The ancient friends of God scarcely ever fail Him,
because they are raised above all occasions of failure.

97. True love accepts prosperity and adversity with an
equal spirit, that of joy and delight.

98. The soul that labours to divest itself of all that is not —

PERFECTION OF LOVE, 357

God for God’s sake is immediately enlightened by, and trans-
formed in, God, in such a way that the soul seems to be God
Himself, and to possess the things of God.

99. Satan fears a soul united with God, as he fears God
Himself. |

100. The soul, in the union of love, resists even the first
impulses,

101. Purity of heart is nothing less than the love and
grace of God. Hence our Lord says: Blessed are the pure
in heart; that is, those who love ; for blessedness is given to
nothing less than love.

102. He who truly loves God does not blush before men
for what he does for God; neither does he conceal his good
works out of shame, though the whole world may condemn
them.

103. He who truly loves God thinks it a great gain to lose
all he has, and his own life, for God.

104. If the soul had but one glimpse of the beauty of God,
not only would it desire to die that it might see Him for
ever, but it would joyfully undergo a thousand most bitter
deaths to see Him again, if only-for a moment.

105. He who acts out of the pure love of God, not only
does not perform his actions to be seen of men, but does not
do them even that God may know of them. Such an one, if
he thought it possible that his good works might escape the
eye of God, would still perform them with the same joy,
and in the same pureness of love.

106. It is a great matter to be much exercised in love:
in order that the soul, made perfect and consummated therein,
may not be long detained, either in this life or the next, from
the vision of God.

107. A pure and perfect work, wrought for God in a pure
heart, makes a perfect kingdom for its Lord.

108, To the pure in heart high things and low are profitable,

358 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS.

and minister to their greater purity ; while to the impure,
by reason of their impurity, both the one and the other are
occasions of greater evil.

109. The pure in heart find in all things the knowledge of
God, sweet, chaste, pure, spiritual, joyous, and loving.

PEACE.

110. By keeping guard over the senses, which are the
gates of the soul, we keep also and increase its tranquillity
and purity.

111. Man would never lose peace if he forgot and cast aside
his thoughts and notions, and withdrew from the sight, hearing,
and discussion of passing events, so far as he well may.

112. If we forget all created things, there is then nothing
to disturb our peace ; nothing to excite our desires. These are
they that disturb it ; for, as the proverb says, What the eye
hath not seen, the heart does not desire.

113. The restless and perturbed soul, not built up in
mortification of the passions and desires, is, as such, incapa-
citated for spiritual good, for that enters only into the soul
which is under control and ordered in peace.

114, God reigns only in the peaceful and unselfish soul.

115. Be tranquil; put away superfluous thoughts, and
make light of whatever may happen; so shall your service be
pleasing unto God, and you shall rejoice in Him.

116. Keep your heart in peace; let nothing in this world
disturb it: all things have an end.

117. Be not made sad by the adverse events of this life,
for you know not the good they bring with them, ordained
in the justice of God, for the everlasting joy of the elect.

118. In all circumstances, however hard they may be, we
should rejoice, rather than be cast down, that we may not lose
the greatest good, the peace and tranquillity of our soul.

119. If the whole world and all that is in it were thrown

—— tt Ce

PEACE AND FRATERNAL CHARITY. 359

into confusion, disquietude on that account would be vanity,
because that disquietude would do more harm than good.

120. To endure all things with an equable and peaceful
mind, not only brings with it many blessings to the soul,
but it also enables us, in the midst of our difficulties, to have
a clear judgment about them, and to minister the fitting
remedy for them.

121. It is not the will of God that the soul should be
troubled by anything, or that it should be afflicted; for if
men are afflicted because of the adversities of this world, that
is the effect of their being weak in virtue; for the soul of the
perfect rejoices even in that which gives pain to the soul of
the imperfect.

122. The heavens are stedfast, not subject to generation ;
and souls which are of a heavenly nature are stedfast, not
subject to the generation of desires, nor of anything of that
kind: they are in some measure like unto God, Who is not
moved for ever.

LOVE OF OUR NEIGHBOUR.

123. Wisdom enters by love, silence, and mortification. It
is a great wisdom to know when to be silent, when to suffer,
and never to regard the sayings, doings, or lives of others.

124. See that you do not intermeddle in the affairs of
other people, nor discuss them in your own thoughts; for
perhaps you will not be able to fulfil your own task.

125. Do not entertain a suspicious thought of a brother,
for that takes away purity of heart.

126. Never listen to accounts of the frailties of others;
and if anyone should complain to you of another, humbly
ask him not to speak about him at all.

127. Do not shrink from trouble: though it may seem
to you more than you can bear, Let all men find you com-

passionate.

360 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS.

128. No one merits love except for the virtue that he has; _ |
and when love is so ordered, it is according to God and in
great freedom.

129. When the love and affection we give to the creature
is purely spiritual and founded on God, the love of God
grows with it; and the more we remember the earthly love,
the more we also remember God and desire Him: the one
grows apace with the other.

130. When the love of the creature springs from sensual
vice, or from a purely natural inclination, in proportion to its
growth is the diminution of the love of God and forgetfulness
of Him; remorse of conscience comes from the recollection
of the creature.

131. That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that
which is born of the spirit is spirit, saith our Saviour in His
Gospel. So the love which grows out of sensuality ends in
sensuality; that which is of the spirit ends in the Spirit of
God, and makes it grow. This is the difference between
these two loves, that men may distinguish between them.

v.
DISORDERLY APPETITES.

132. He who loves any creature out of the order of charity
becomes vile as that creature itself, and in one sense even
viler ; for love not only levels but subjects also the lover to
the object of his love.

133. The passions and desires, when under control and
restrained, are the sources of all virtues, and, when they have
broken loose, of all the vices and imperfections of the soul
also.

134, Every desire hurts the soul in five ways, beside rob-
bing it of the Spirit of God: 1. It fatigues it. 2. Torments
it. 3. Obscures it. 4. Defiles it. 5. Weakens it.

THE SOUL TORMENTED BY DESIRES. 361

135. All created things are but the crumbs which fall from
the table of God; and for that reason, they who go about
feeding on the creature are rightly called dogs; they are,
therefore, always hungry like dogs, and justly so, because
crumbs excite, rather than appease, hunger.

136. The desires are like restless and dissatisfied children
begging of their mother, now one thing, now another, never
contented; like one ill of a burning fever, never at rest,
and whose thirst increases while the fever lasts.

137. As a man dragging a cart up hill, so is that soul on
its way to God, which does not throw aside the cares of
this life, and which does not deny itself.

138. As he is tormented who falls into the hands of his
enemies, so is the soul afflicted and tormented which is
carried away by its desires.

139. As a man is tormented and afflicted who lies down
naked amid thorns and briers, so is the soul tormented and
afflicted which lies down in the midst of its desires: they
‘pierce, torture, and tear it painfully.

140. As vapours obscure the air and hide the light of the
sun, so the soul, captive to its desires, is intellectually in
darkness, so that neither the sun of natural reason nor that
of the supernatural wisdom of God can inform or enlighten it.

141. He who feeds his desires is like a moth, or a fish
dazzled by the light which the fishermen throw over the
water, that it may not see the ruin which the fishermen have
prepared for it.

142. Who can tell how impossible it is for the soul, subject
to desires, to judge of the things of God? for while there is
a film over the eye of its judgment, it sees nothing but that
film, now of one colour, now of another; and so it comes to
regard the things of God as not the things of God, and those
which are not the things of God as the things of God.

143. A bird that has perched upon a twig covered with

362 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS.

birdlime labours in a twofold way—in extricating itself and in —
cleaning itself; so a soul, that has given way to desires; it has
to extricate itself in the first place, and then, when it has
done so, it has to clean itself of that which has clung to it.

144. As soot defiles the most beautiful and perfect face, so
the unruly desires of the soul defile and pollute that soul
which entertains them, and yet that soul in itself is the most
beautiful and perfect image of God.

145. He that toucheth pitch, saith the Holy Ghost, shall
be defiled with it. A soul touches pitch when it satisfies the
desires of the will in any created thing.

146. If my object were to describe the foul and corrupt
condition to which the desires reduce the soul, I should not
be able to find anything so full of cobwebs and worms, not
even corruption itself, wherewith to compare it.

147. The desires are like the suckers which grow on a tree,
they sap its strength and destroy its fertility.

148. There are no corrupt humours which so enfeeble a
man’s gait, and make him to loathe his food, as the desire of
the creature enfeebles the soul, indisposing it for the practice
of virtue.

149. Many souls have no inclination for virtue, because
their desires are impure, and not for God.

150. As the young vipers, growing in the womb, feed on
their mother and kill her, preserving their own lives at the
cost of hers, so the unmortified desires prey on the soul and
kill the life of God in it; they at last are the only things
that live in it, because the soul has not killed them first.

151. As it is necessary to till the earth that it may bring
forth fruit—for otherwise it will produce nothing but weeds,
—so also is it necessary to mortify our desires, in order to
have purity of soul.

152. As wood is never transformed into fire if but one
degree of heat necessary for that end be wanting, so the soul

IMPEDIMENTS TO PERFECT UNION. 363

that has but one imperfection can never be perfectly trans-

formed in God.

153. Whether it be a strong wire rope, or a slender and
delicate thread, that holds the bird, it matters not if it really
detains it, for, until the cord be. broken, the bird cannot fly ;
so the soul, held in the bonds of human affections, however
slight they may be, cannot, while they last, fly upwards to
God.

154. The desires and attachments of the soul have the
property attributed to the remora, which, though it be but a
little fish, yet it arrests the progress of the ship to which it
clings.

155. O that spiritual men knew how they are losing the
blessings and fulness of the Spirit, merely because they will
not raise up their desires above trifles! and how they might
have the sweetness of all things in the pure food of the Spirit
—of which the manna was a figure—if they would only
abstain from tasting other food !

156. The children of Israel did not find in the manna all
the sweetness and strength they might have found in it; not
because the manna did not contain them, but because they
longed for other meat.

157. Of one spark cometh a great fire, and one imperfec-
tion is enough to beget another. We shall never see a soul
negligent in resisting but one single desire, which has not
many other desires, springing out of that weakness and im-
perfection from which the first proceeds.

158. Voluntary and perfectly deliberate desires, however
slight they may be, if only habitual, are those which chiefly
impede our progress to perfection.

159. Any imperfection to which the soul is attached is a
greater injury to virtue than a daily fall into many other
and even greater imperfections, provided they do not result
from the habitual indulgence of an evil inclination.

364 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS.

160. God is justly angry with those souls whom He, in the ©
power of His arm, has delivered from the world, and from —
the occasions of grievous sins, but who are yet weak and
negligent in mortifying certain imperfections; for this He
permits them to fall in their desires from bad to worse.

VI.
PRUDENCE.

161. Give heed to reason, that you may perform that
which it dictates to you in the way of God: and it will serve
you more than all good works heedlessly done, and all the
spiritual sweetness you aim at.

162. Blessed is he who, setting his own tastes and inclina-
tions aside, looks at things according to reason and justice, in
order to accomplish them.

163. He who acts according to reason is as one who eats
strong and substantial food; but he who in his works seeks
the satisfaction of his own will, is as one who eats poor and
unripe fruit.

164. No creature may transgress the limits which God has
set for it in the order of its nature: and as He has appointed
for man’s governance certain natural and rational laws, the
transgression thereof, by seeking for information in a super-
natural way, is neither holy nor becoming: moreover, God
is displeased ; and if at any time He vouchsafes an answer,
it is out of condescension to the soul’s weakness.

165. Man knows not how to order his joy and grief reason-
ably and prudently, because he knows not the difference
between good and evil.

166. We know not how to distinguish between our right
hand and our left: for at every step we take evil for good
and good for evil, and if this be as it were natural to us,
what must it be if desire be added to our natural blindness ?

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MINUISTI EUM PAULO MINUS AB ANGELIS. 365

eo 187<- "The. desire} as: dasieey 1s blind! because in itself it

regards not reason, which is that which ever guides and
directs the soul aright in its operations: so the soul, when-
ever it is guided by its desires, is blind.

THE ANGELS.

168. The angels are our shepherds, because they carry not
only our message to God, but also those of God to our souls,
feeding them with sweet inspirations and Divine communi-
cations: as good shepherds they protect us, and defend us
from the wolves, which are the evil spirits.

169. Through the secret inspirations which the angels
convey to the soul, they effect a deeper knowledge of God,
and make it love Him the more, till they leave it wounded
with love. |

170. The Divine wisdom which in heaven illumines the
angels, and cleanses them of their ignorances, is the same
which illumines men upon earth, and cleanses them of their
errors and imperfections; it flows from God through the
first orders of the hierarchies down to the lowest, and thence
to men.

171. The light of God, which illumines the angels, en-
lightening and setting them on fire with love, as pure spirits
disposed for that inflowing, illumines men ordinarily in
obscurity, pain, and distress, because of men’s impurity and
weakness: so is the sun to a weak eye; the light it gives is
painful.

172. When man has become spiritualised and refined in
the fire of Divine love which purifies him, he then receives
the union and inflowing of the loving illumination with the
sweetness with which an angel receives them. There are
souls who in this life receive a more perfect illumination
than the angels.

173. When God gives great graces to a soul through the

366 . SPIRITUAL MAXIMS.

hands of an angel, He ordinarily allows the devil to know it,
that he may assail that soul with all his might, according to
the measure of justice, in order that the victory may be the
more prized, and the soul, faithful in temptation, may be the
more rewarded,

174, Remember that your guardian angel does not always
move the will to act, though he always enlightens the reason;
therefore do not promise yourself sensible sweetness always
in your works, because reason and understanding are
sufficient.

175. When the desires of man are occupied with anything
that is not God they embarrass the soul and shut the door
against the light by which the angel moves to virtue.

176. Consider what utter vanity it is to rejoice in anything
but in the service of God, how dangerous and how fatal; how
ruinous it proved to the angels who rejoiced and had compla-
cency in their own beauty and their natural endowments! -for
this they fell foul into the abyss.

A SPIRITUAL DIRECTOR.

177. A soul without a director is like a kindled coal, which,
if left by itself, cools instead of burning.

178. He who insists on being left to himself, without a
- director to guide him, is like an unowned tree by the way-
side ; however fruitful it may be, the travellers pick its fruit,
and none of it ripens.

179. The tree that is cultivated and kept carefully by its
owner produces fruit in due season, and the owner is not
disappointed. ’

180. He who falls alone remains alone in his fall; he
makes little account of his soul, because he trusts in himself
alone.

181. He who is burdened when he falls, rises with difficulty
under his burden.

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CAUTIONS TO DIRECTORS AND PENITENTS. 367

«182, He who falls, being blind, cannot rise, being blind
and alone; and if he should rise by himself, he will walk in a

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| J "direction that is not good for him.

183. If you are not afraid to fall by yourself, how can you
venture to raise yourself alone? Remember that two are
better than one.

184. Our Lord did not say in His Gospel, where one is by
himself there am I, but where there are at the least two: this
is to show us that no one should believe of himself, or confirm
himself in the things which he thinks are those of God,

«without the counsel and direction of the Church and her
ministers.

185. Woe to him that is alone, saith the Holy Ghost; and
therefore the soul has need of a director, for both will resist
the devil more easily, being both together to learn and practise
the truth.

186. It is the will of God that the government of one
man should be in the hands of another, and that we should
not give perfect credit to those matters which He communi-
cates supernaturally Himself, until they shall have passed
through the human channel of another man’s mouth.

187. When God makes a particular revelation to a soul, he
also inclines that soul to make it known to the minister of
His Church, who stands in His place.

188. It is not every one who is fitted for the direction of
souls; it being a matter of the last importance to give right
or wrong advice in so serious a matter as that.

189. Let the soul that would advance, and not go back,
take care into whose hands it commits itself; for, as is the
master, so is the scholar, and as is the father so is the child.

190. The inclinations and tastes of the director are easily
impressed upon the penitent.

191. The chief solicitude of spiritual directors should be
to mortify every desire of their penitents: to make them

368 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS,

deny themselves in all they desire, so as to deliver them
from so great misery.

192. However high the doctrine, adorned the eloquence,
sublime the style, the fruits of the sermon will be, in general,
no better than the spirit of the preacher.

193. A good style and action, high doctrines and correct
expression, have a greater effect when accompanied by true
spirituality ; but without that the will is scarcely or but little }
inflamed, though the senses may be charmed and the under- ;

standing delighted.

194. God is angry with those who teach His law and keep»
it not; and who preach spirituality to others without being
spiritual themselves. |

195. For the highest parts, and even for the ordinary parts, |
of the way of perfection, you will scarcely find one capable
guide throughout, such as men have need of: such an one :
must be wise, discreet, and experienced. |

196. For though the foundations of direction be knowledge |
and discretion, yet if directors be without experience, they ,
will never be able to guide the soul in the way in which God
is leading it; they will make it go backwards, ordering it
after low methods which they pick up in books. .

197. He who shall presumptuously err in the direction of
souls, being under obligation to give good counsel—as every-
one is in the office he undertakes—shall not escape punish-
ment according to the evil he has done; for the work of
God—and such is the direction of souls—demands great
caution and counsel.

198. Who can be like St. Paul, who was all things to all,
that he might save all? knowing all the ways by which God
leads souls, which are so different one from another, that you
can scarcely find one which in half its ways agrees with the
ways of another.

RELIGION AND PRAYER.

199. The greatest honour we can render unto God, is to

serve Him in evangelical perfection: and whatever is beside

this is of no value or advantage to man.

$2 200. One thought of man is of more value than the whole

--—s world; God alone is, for that reason, the worthy object of it,
and to Him alone is it due; every thought of man, therefore,

___ which is not given to God, is a robbery.

eo 201. In all nature there are correspondences; insensible

_ things correspond with those that are insensible; sense with
things sensible; and man’s thoughts with the Spirit of God.

NECESSITY OF PRAYER.

202. Never let your heart waste its affections, not even for
a moment.

203. The soul cannot overcome the devil without prayer,
nor penetrate his devices without humility and mortification ;
for the weapons of God are prayer and the Cross of Christ.

204. In all our necessities, trials, and afflictions, there is no
better nor safer remedy than prayer, and hope that God will
provide for us in His own way.

FRUITS OF PRAYER.

205. Let God be the spouse and friend of your soul,
remain always in His presence, and so you shall avoid sin,
learn to love Him, and all things will prosper with you.

206. Enter into your innermost heart, and labour in the
presence of God, the spouse of your soul, Who is ever present
doing you good.

207. Strive to be continually in the presence of God, and
to preserve the purity which He teaches.

208. By prayer aridity is expelled, devotion increased, and
the interior practice of virtue established in the soul.

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370 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS.

209. By shutting the eyes to the defects of others, keep- —

ing silence, and conversing continually with God, great
imperfections are rooted out of the soul, which thereby be-
comes the mistress of great virtues.

210. When prayer is made in the pure and simple under-
standing of God, it seems to the soul to have lasted but a
moment, though in fact it occupied much time: this is that
prayer of a moment, of which it is said that it pierces the
clouds,

THE QUALITY OF PRAYER.

211. The powers and senses of the soul should not be
employed altogether upon anything unless it be a matter
which cannot be neglected; for the rest, they should be
unoccupied for God.

212. Wait lovingly upon God, without any desire to feel
or understand anything particular in Him.

213. Strive to attain to that state in which nothing is of
importance to you, and you of importance to none, so that
being utterly forgotten you may be with God in secret.

214. He who will not allow his desires to carry him away
will wing his flight like a bird whose wings are strong. —

215. Do not nourish your soul upon anything else but on
God: repel the remembrance of things, let peace and recol-
lection fill your heart.

216. If you would attain to holy recollection, it must be
by rejecting, and not by admitting.

217. Seek by reading and you will find by meditating;
cry in prayer and the door will be opened in contemplation.

218. True devotion and spirituality consist in perseverance

in prayer, with patience and humility, distrusting yourself

that you may please God only.
219. They call upon God in truth who pray for that which
is most true: that which belongs to their eternal salvation.

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: Pe NOD: Tiinis Ss Sy Selle dy Un Gbtalh. the desires of our
heart than to pray with all our might for that which is most

a pleasing unto God; for then He will grant us not only our

_ salvation but also that which He sees most expedient for us,
_ though we may never ask for it, and though it may have

never entered into our hearts to do so.
221. Let every soul understand that, although God may

- not succour it in its necessities when it cries, He will not
_ however fail it when the time comes; provided it does not

lose heart and cease from prayer.

MOTIVES FOR PRAYER.

222. When the will, the moment it feels any joy in sen-
sible things, rises upwards in that joy to God, and when
sensible things move it to pray, it ought not then to reject,
yea rather it should make use of, them for so holy an exer-
cise; because sensible things, under these conditions, sub-
serve the end for which God created them: namely, to be
occasions of making Him better loved and known.

223. He whose senses are subject to the Spirit, purged
from all sensible objects, even in his first movements, elicits
delights in the sweet knowledge and contemplation of God.

224. As it is a truth of sound philosopliy that the life of
every creature is in harmony with its constitution, so is it
clear beyond all contradiction, that he whose life is spiritual
—the animal life being mortified—must be wholly tending
towards God.

225. The will of a devout person rests chiefly on the
invisible; he requires but few images for his use, and these
are such as are more conformable to Divine, than to human,
taste; ordering himself herein after the ways of the other
world, and not of this.

226. The chief thing to be regarded in images is devotion

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372 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS,

and faith ; if these be absent, the image will not be sufficient.

What a perfect living image our Lord was upon earth, and ~ {

yet those who had no faith, though they were constantly about
Him, and saw His wonderful works, were not the better for
His presence.

PLACE FOR PRAYER,

227. Keep yourself apart for one thing only, which brings
everything with it—solitude, accompanied by prayer and
spiritual reading: and there abide, forgetting all things, if
there be no obligation upon you to remember them. You
will please God more by keeping watch over, and perfecting
yourself, than if you gained everything: for what doth it
profit a man if he gain the whole world, if he loses his
own soul ?

228. Pure spirituality gives no heed to matters which do
not concern it, nor to human respect; but alone and apart
from all created forms, communicates interiorly in sweet
tranquillity with God; for the knowledge of Him lies in the
Divine silence.

229. For the purposes of prayer that place is to be chosen
in which sense and spirit may be least hindered from rising
up to God.

230. The place of prayer must not be pleasant and de-
lectable to the senses—some people seek such a place—lest _
the issue should be recreation of the senses, and not recollec-
tion of spirit.

231. He who goes on a pilgrimage will do well to do so
when others do not, though it be at an unusual season.
When pilgrims are many, I would advise staying at home,
for in general men return more dissipated than they were
before they went. And they who become pilgrims for recrea-
tion, rather than devotion, are many in number.

DIRECTIONS REGARDING PRAYER. 373

IMPEDIMENTS TO PRAYER.

232. He who interrupts the course of his spiritual exer-
cises and prayer, is Jike a man who allows a bird to escape
from his hand; he can hardly catch it again.

233. God being, as He is, inaccessible, do not repose on
the consideration of objects perceptible by sense, and com-
prehended by the understanding. This is to be satisfied
with what is less than God; so doing you will destroy that
energy of the soul which is necessary for drawing near unto
Him.

234. Never consent to admit into your soul that which is
not substantially spiritual ; for if you do so you will lose the
sweetness of devotion and recollection.

235. He who relies much on the senses will never be very
spiritual ; they deceive themselves who think they can, in
the sheer strength of our grovelling senses, attain to the
power of the spirit.

236. The imperfect destroy true devotion, because they
seek sensible sweetness in prayer.

237. The fly that touches the honey cannot fly; so the
soul that clings to spiritual sweetness ruins its own freedom
and hinders contemplation.

238. He who will not dispose himself to pray in every
place, but only there where his own taste is gratified, will
frequently fail in his prayer; because, as they say, he can
pray only in his own parish.

239. He who does not feel liberty of spirit amid the things
of sense and sweetness, which should serve as motives to
prayer, and whose will rests and feeds upon them, ought to
abstain from the use of them, for to him they are a hindrance
on the road to God.

240. It is very foolish, when spiritual sweetness and
delight fail, to imagine that God has failed us also; and to

374 / SPIRITUAL MAXIMS.

imagine, that because we have such sweetness, that we have
God also. |

241. Very often many spiritual persons employ their senses
upon sensible things, under the pretext of giving themselves
to prayer, and raising their hearts to God; now this that
they do should be called recreation rather than prayer;
pleasing themselves rather than God.

242. Meditation tends to contemplation, as means to an
end. So when the end is attained, the means are laid aside;
men rest at the end of their journey; thus, when the state of
contemplation has been attained, meditation must cease.

243. As it is necessary, at the proper time, to give up the
work of reflection and meditation in order to draw near unto
God, lest it should prove an impediment, so also is it neces-
sary not to give it up before the time lest we should go
back.

244, There are three signs of contemplation and interior
recollection of the soul: 1. When the soul takes no pleasure
in transitory things. 2. When it seeks solitude and silence,
striving after that which is the more perfect. 3. When medi-
tation, which was once a help, proves a hindrance. These
three signs must be found together.

245. In the beginning of the state of contemplation the
loving knowledge of God is, as it were, imperceptible: in the
first place, because it is most subtile and delicate, and, as it
were, unfelt ; in the second place, because the soul has been
accustomed to the practice of meditation, which is more
cognisable by the senses.

246. The more the soul is disposed for tranquillity, the
more will the loving knowledge of contemplation grow; the
soul will feel it and relish it more than all other things
whatever ; because it brings with it peace and rest, sweetness
and delight, without trouble. |

247. They who have passed on to the state of contempla-

Peaks their meditations any more; for in the beginning the
habit of it is not so established that they can have it whenever
they will; neither are they so far removed from meditation
as to be unable to meditate as they were accustomed to do.

248. Except in the act of contemplation, in all exercises
and good works, the soul must make use of good meditations
on, and recollection of, what is good in such a way as to
increase devotion and profit, particularly dwelling on the
life, passion, and death of our Lord Jesus Christ, in order that
its works, exercises, and life may be conformed to His.

249. The conditions of the ‘solitary sparrow’ are five:
1. It ascends as high as it can. 2. It admits none to be its
companion, even of its own kind. 3. It faces the wind.
4. It has no definite colour. 5. It sings sweetly. The con-
templative soul must do the same; it must rise high above
transitory things, making no more account of them than if
they never existed ; it must be so enamoured of solitude and
silence as to suffer no creature to be in its company; it
must face the wind of the Holy Ghost, corresponding to His
inspirations, that so doing, it may become more worthy of
His company; it must have no definite colour, bent upon
nothing but on doing the will of God; it must sing sweetly
in contemplation and in the love of God.

-250. Though occasionally, in the height of contemplation
and pure intuition of the Divinity, the soul may not remem-
ber the most sacred humanity of Christ, because God elevates
the spirit to the most supernatural knowledge, yet studiously
to forget it is in nowise seemly, seeing that by the contem-
plation thereof, and loving meditation thereon, the soul
ascends to the highest state of union; for Christ our Lord is
the Truth, the Gate, the Way, and the Guide to all good.

376 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS.

Vil.

OBEDIENCE.

251. The way of life demands little trouble and care, it
demands denial of the will rather than much knowledge; he
who inclines to pleasure and sweetness will be the less able
to travel on it.

252. He who does not walk in the way of his own pleasure,
nor in that of the pleasures which come from God, nor in
that of those which come from creatures, and never does his
own will, he shall never stumble.

253. Though you may undertake great things, yet, if you
will not learn to deny your own will and to be obedient,
casting away all anxiety about yourself and your own affairs,
you will make no progress in the way of perfection.

254. Let others teach you, let others order you, let others
rule over you, and you will become perfect.

255. God is more pleased with that soul which, in aridity
and trouble of spirit, is subject and obedient, than with that
which, without obedience, performs all its duties with great
sweetness of spirit.

256. God would rather have from you the lowest degree
of obedience and subjection, than all those services you
would render Him.

257. Subjection and obedience is the penance of reason
and discretion; and is therefore a more pleasing sacrifice in
the eyes of God than all other bodily penances.

258. Bodily penance, without obedience, is a most imper-
fect thing; beginners practise it out of a desire for it, and for
the pleasure they find in it; and therefore because they herein
do their own will, they grow in vice, rather than in virtue.

259. Inasmuch as a double bitterness results from fulfilling
one’s own will, do not fulfil it; although it may be bitter-
ness to remain quiet.

PATIENCE WINS ALL. 377

a 260. The devil prevails with ease over those who are alone,
and who in the things of God order themselves according té
_ their own will.

Vill.

FORTITUDE AND PATIENCE.

261. It is better when burdened to be joined to the strong,
than unburdened to the weak. When you are loaded with
afflictions you are joined to God, Who is your strength,
and He is the strength of the afflicted. When you are un-
burdened you are joined to yourself, who are weakness itself,
for virtue and fortitude grow in the soul, and are strength-
ened, in tribulations.

262. Your flesh is weak, and no worldly thing can
strengthen or comfort your spirit; that which is born of the
world is worldly, and that which is born of the flesh is flesh :
a good spirit is born only of the Spirit of God, and is com-
municated neither through the world nor the flesh.

263. The most delicate flower is the first to wither, and to
lose its fragrance: therefore take care you do not walk in
the way of spiritual sweetness, for you will never be firm.
Choose rather a strong spirit, attached to nothing, and you
will find sweetness and abundance of peace. Savoury, sweet,
and lasting fruit is gathered only in a dry and cold soil.

264. Though the road be plain and pleasant for men of
good will, he who travels on it will travel little, and that
with difficulty, if he be not possessed of great courage, phy-
sical strength, and resolute perseverance.

265. Feed not in the forbidden pastures, which are those
of this life: the blessed are they who hungered and thirsted
after justice, and it is they who are filled.

266. Verily he has overcome all things in whom the
pleasures of them excite no joy, and the bitterness of them
no sadness.

378 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS.

267. By fortitude the soul labours, practises virtue, and

Overcomes vice.

268. Let your heart be strong against everything that may
attract you to that which is not God, and be at home in the
sufferings of Christ.

269. Rejoice in God always, for He is your salvation, and
consider how good it is to suffer whatever may come from
Him who is the true good.

270. If you incline to aridities and suffering for the love
of God, He will esteem that in you of more value than all
the spiritual visions, meditations, and consolations you may
ever have.

271. Never, for good or for evil, suffer your heart to be
otherwise than calm in the affections of love; that you may
endure whatever may befal you.

272. We are not to measure our trials by ourselves, but
ourselves by our trials.

273. If souls but knew the advantage of suffering aid
mortification for the attainment of great blessings, they
would never seek for consolation anywhere.

274. Ifa soul has more patience under suffering, a greater
endurance in the absence of sweetness, that is a sign of greater
progress in virtue.

275. The way of suffering is more secure and more profit-
able than that of joy and action. In suffering, the strength
of God is given to the soul, while in joy and action it has to
do with its own weakness and imperfections: in suffering also
virtues are acquired and practised ; the soul is purified, and
is rendered more prudent and cautious,

276. The soul that is not tried and proved in temptations
and afflictions can never attain unto wisdom, as it is written
in the book Eeclesiasticus: ‘What doth he know that hath

not been tried ?’ *
* Eccles. xxxiv. 9.

h

MODESTY.

278. The soul, by refraining from joy in the objects of
sense, recovers itself from the distractions into which it has
fallen through the excessive indulgence of the senses, and
recollects itself in God: spirituality and the virtues it has
acquired are also preserved and increased.

279. As the man who seeks pleasure in the things of sense,
and rejoices in them, ought not, and deserves not, to be called
by any other name than sensual, animal, and earthly, so he
whose joy is beyond and above these things, merits the name
of spiritual, heavenly, and divine.

280. If you will deny yourself one joy in the things of
sense, our Lord will repay you a hundred-fold in this life
spiritually and temporally ; and for one joy indulged in the
things of sense, you shall have a hundred sorrows and afflictions.

281. All the functions and powers of his senses, who no
longer lives after the flesh, are directed to Divine contem-
plation. ;

282. Though the goods of sénse may deserve to be some-
what rejoiced in when they help a man to raise his thoughts
to God, yet this is so uncertain that in general they do a
man more harm than good.

283. Until a man shall have so habituated his senses to
the purgation from sensible joy, that all things raise him up
to God, he must refrain from all joy in them, in order that
he may wean his soul from the life of sense.

SILENCE.
284. The Father uttered one Word; that Word is His
Son: and He utters Him for ever in everlasting silence, and
the soul to hear It must be silent.

hae .

Ls ©

380 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS.

285. That which we most require for our spiritual growth
is the silence of the desire and of the tongue before God,
Who is so high: the language He most listens@to is that of
silent love.

286. Speak little; and do not meddle in matters when
you are not desired to do so.

287. Complain of no one: ask for nothing, but if it should
be necessary to ask, do so in few words.

288. Abstain from contradiction: on no account let your
words be other than pure.

289. Let your language be offensive to none; let it be
about matters such as will cause you no trouble if everybody + —
knew of them. |

290. Preserve your spirit in peace, lovingly attentive to )
God: and when you must speak, do so calmly and peaceably.

291. Be silent about what God may say to you, remem-
bering the words of Scripture: ‘My secret to me.’ * {

292. Never forget that of every word uttered without the |
direction of obedience, God will require a strict account.

293. Intercourse with people beyond what is strictly ne-

cessary, and required by reason, has never been good for any
man, however holy he may have been.
294. It is impossible to make progress otherwise than by
doing and suffering everything in silence.
295. For growth in virtue, the important thing is to be
silent, and to work: conversation distracts, silence and work
bring recollection.
296. The moment a person understands what is told him
for his good, there is no necessity for him to ask for further
direction, nor to speak about it, but to act upon it sincerely
in silence carefully, in humility, charity, and contempt of self.
297. I have understood that the soul which is ready for

* Is. xxiv. 16.

‘
=

LOWLINESS OF HEART. = 381

to God: for if it were otherwise, it would withdraw itself at
once into silence within, and avoid all conversation whatever.
298. It is the will of God that the soul should delight in
Him, rather than in any created thing, however useful or
necessary it may be to it.

X.

HUMILITY.

299. The first thing the soul must have in order to attain
to the knowledge of God is the knowledge of itself.

300. God is more pleased with certain actions, however
few they may be, done in silence and in secret, and without
any desire that men might see them, than with a thousand
grand actions undertaken with the intention of their becom-
ing known to men.

301. The secrecy of conscience is broken when a man
- reveals to others the blessings he has received: the reward
of his actions is the praise of men.

302. The wise Spirit of God Who dwells in humble souls
inclines them to keep His treasures in secret, and to make
visible their imperfections.

303. Perfection consists not in those virtues which everyone
recognises in himself, but in those which God approves of.
And as His approval is hidden from the eyes of men, no one
‘has any reason to presume, but rather much whereof to be
afraid.

304. God, when He gives His love to a soul, regards not
its greatness in itself, but rather the greatness of its contempt
of self, and its humility.

305. What you most seek, and most anxiously desire, you
will never find if you seek it of yourself, not even in the

most profound contemplation; but only in deep humility and
submission of heart.

@ SA
77

382 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS.

306. If you will glory in yourself, cast away everything

not your own: what remains will be nothing, and it is no-
thing you should glory in. 7

307. Do not despise others because, as it seems to you,
they do not possess the virtues you thought they had: they
may be pleasing to God for other reasons which you cannot
discover.

308. Never excuse yourself: listen calmly to the repri-
mand and consider it to come from God.

309. Look upon it as a special mercy of God, that people
ever speak kindly to you: you do not deserve it.

310. Make neither much nor little of him who may be
against you, and strive always to please God. Pray that
His will may be done, and love Him much, for that is your
duty.

311. Love to be unknown to yourself and others: never
regard the good nor the evil of others.

312. Never forget the life to come. Consider how many
in heaven are great, and in great glory, who in their own
eyes were of no account, humble and poor.

313. In order to mortify really the desire of honour out
of which so many other desires proceed, you will do those
things which will bring you into contempt, and you will wish
others to do the same: you will speak disparagingly of your-
self and you will contrive that others may do so too: you
will think humbly and contemptuously of yourself, and you
will wish others to do so also.

314. Humility and submission to your spiritual director,
disclosing to him all that passes in your intercourse with
God, will bring light, rest, contentment, and security.

315. Virtue consists not in apprehensions of, and feelings
about God, however sublime they may be, nor in any personal
experiences of this kind, but, on the contrary, in that which
is not matter of feeling at all, in great humility, contempt of

ws Da

316. All visions, revelations, and impressions of heaven,
however much the spiritual man may esteem them, are not

equal in worth to the least act of humility: for this brings

1

forth the fruits of charity, which never esteems nor thinks
well of self, but only of others.

317. The communications which come really from God,
have this property, that they humble and exalt the soul at
the same time, for in the way of the Spirit to descend is to
ascend, and to ascend is to descend.

318. When God communicates His gifts and graces to the
soul, He excites in it a repugnance to accept honours and
distinctions, but in the way of humility and self-abasement,
He gives it ease and readiness.

319. God hates to see men ready to accept dignities, even
when it is His will that they should accept them, but it is
not His will that they should do so eagerly and promptly.

320. When the devil speaks, he makes men ready and
eager to accept dignities, but he makes them reject humilia-
tions and self-abasement.

VANITY.

321. He who loves superiorities and dignities, or the in-
dulgence of his desires, stands before God, not as a son who
is free, but as one of mean condition, the slave of his passions.

$22. The soul that is not humble, the devil most easily
deludes, and makes it believe a thousand lies.

323. There are many Christians in our day who have
certain virtues, and who do great things, but all of no use to
them in the matter of everlasting life, merely because they
do not keep in view the honour and glory of God alone, but
rather the empty satisfaction of their own will.

324. Empty joy in our good works is always attended by

384 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS. |

a great esteem of them : out of this comes voacting ates
faults such as we see in the Pharisee in the gospel.

325. Such is the misery of the simi ‘men, that so
far as I can see, the greater part of their good works done in
public are either sinful or worthless, or imperfect*and de-
fective in the sight of God, because men will not detach
themselves from self-interest and from human respect.

326. O souls created for, and called unto, a dignity so
great! what are you doing, what is it that detains you?
O-miserable blindness of the children of Adam, who in a
light so great are blind, and to such an invitation deaf!
While they seek after greatness and honour they are them-
selves miserable and base, and of such blessings unworthy.

XI.

VOLUNTARY POVERTY.

327. If rejoicing in riches can be made in any way en-
durable, it is when men spend and use them in the service of
* God; there is no other way of making them profitable: the
same principle applies to all other temporal goods, titles,
rank, and office.

328. The spiritual man must be very careful of the be-
ginnings of joy in temporal things, lest from little it should
become great, increasing from one degree to another; out of
slight beginnings great evils result. One spark is enough
to set a mountain on fire.

329. However small an attachment may be, be not too
confident that you can cut it off at any time, but cut it off
at once: for if you have not the courage to destroy it when
it is but beginning, how can you presume upon success when
it has taken root and grown ?

330. He who turns aside from what is little, will not stum-
ble over what is large. Little matters cause great evils,

THORNS CHOKING THE WORD. 385

because the fences and walls of the heart are broken down
when they enter in; for the proverb says: he who has begun
his work has accomplished the half of it.

331. Joy darkens the judgment as a cloud, for there can
be no rejoicing in created things without the attachment of
the will. The negation and purgation of this joy leaves the
judgment clear as the sky when the mist has been scattered.

332. He who is detached is not molested when he prays,
nor at any other time, and so without wasting his time he
gains with ease great spiritual treasures.

AVARICE.

333. Although temporal goods are not, in themselves,
necessarily, occasions of sin, yet ordinarily, by reason of our
frailty, the heart of man sets its affections upon them, and
falls away from God, which is sin: for this reason the wise
man saith: the rich shall not be free from sin.

334. The things of this world neither occupy nor injure
the soul; it is not they that enter into it, but rather the will,
and the desire of them, which dwell within it.

335. Our Lord Jesus Christ, in the gospel, calls riches
thorns, giving us to understand that he who sets his will
upon them shall be wounded by sin.

336. It is vanity to desire to have children, as some do,
who weary the world with their fretting for them: they
know not if their children will be good, and servants of
God: neither do they know whether the pleasure they expect
from them may not be turned into disquietude, pain, and
trouble.

-337. The covetous man runs to and fro within the limits
of the chain by which his heart is bound, and with all his
efforts can scarcely set himself free, even for a moment,
from the bondage of his thoughts, running incessantly hither
and thither within the length of the chain that binds him.

VOL. II. co

386 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS.

POVERTY OF SPIRIT.

338. Consider how very necessary it is for you to set your
face against yourself, and walk in the way of penance, if you
would attain to perfection.

339. If any one tempts you with lax opinions, and should
even confirm them by miracles, trust him not: but rely rather
upon penance and perfect detachment from creatures.

340. God in the old law commanded that the altar of
sacrifice should be empty within. This is to teach us that
the soul, which is to become an altar worthy of His Majesty,
should be emptied of all things. |

341. One desire only does God allow, and suffer in his
presence within the soul—the desire of keeping the law per-
fectly, and carrying the cross of Christ. It is not said, in the
sacred writings, that God commanded anything to be laid up
in the ark with the manna except the book of the law and the
rod of Moses, a type of the cross of Christ.

342. That soul which has no other aim than the perfect
observance of the law of our Lord, and the carrying of the
cross of Christ, will be a true ark containing the true manna,
which is God.

343. If you wish devotion to be born in your heart, the
love of God to grow, together with the desire for divine things,
cleanse your soul from every desire and self-seeking, so that
nothing of the kind remain with you. For as a sick man,
freed from the evil humours which troubled him, feels in-
stantly returning health and a taste for his food, so shall
you recover your health in God if you rid yourself of your
spiritual disorders: and if this be not done, whatever you
may do, you will make no progress,

344, Live in this world as if God and your soul only were
in it; so shall your heart be never made captive by any
earthly thing.

—— =

BLESSED ARE THE POOR IN SPIRIT. 387

345. Do not weary yourself to no purpose: do not seek
spiritual joy and sweetness, unless it be by denying yourself
in that which you aim at.

346. Be interiorly detached from all things, and do not set
your affection upon any temporal thing, and your soul will
gather in a harvest of blessings beyond its comprehension.

347. The goods of God, which are beyond all measure, can
be contained only in an empty and solitary heart.

348. So far as it lies in your power, refuse nothing asked
of you, though you may have need of it yourself.

349. He will never attain to perfection who will not labour
to be satisfied with this: that all his natural and spiritual
desires should be satisfied in the absence of everything which
is not God. This is most necessary for an abiding peace and
tranquillity of spirit.

350. Let your soul be always ordered by a desire not for
that which is easy, but for that which is most difficult; not
for that which is most pleasant, but for that which is most
unpleasant ; not for that which is elevated and precious, but
for that which is vile and despised; not for great things,
but for little things; not to seek for anything, but to seek
for nothing ; not for that which is best, but for that which is
worst; desiring to enter, for the love of Jesus, upon detach-
ment, emptiness, and poverty in everything of this world.

351. If you will cleanse your soul of strange possessions
and desires, you will understand all things spiritually; and
if you will restrain yourself from setting your heart upon
them, you will rejoice truly in them, and understand them
certainly.

352. All people will be your servants, and all things will
minister to you, if only you will forget them and yourself.

353. You will never have to do with necessities greater
than those to which you made your heart yield itself: for
the poor in spirit are most happy and joyous in a state of

ec?

388 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS.

privation ; and he who has set his heart upon nothing, finds
fulness everywhere. ;

354. The poor in spirit give generously all they have, and
their pleasure consists in being thus deprived of everything
for God’s sake, and out of love to their neighbour, ordering
all things by the laws of virtue.

355. Poverty of spirit looks to the substance of devotion,
and makes use only of what is sufficient for it: weary of the
multiplicity and curiosity of visible means.

356. A soul withdrawn from exterior things, detached from
its own will, even in divine things, will not be raised by pros-
perity nor subdued by adversity.

357. The poor that are naked shall be clothed: and the
soul that will strip itself of all its desires, likings, and dis-
likings, God will clothe with His own purity, His own Joys
and His own will.

358. The love of God in a pure and simple soul, detached
from every desire, is frequently in act.

359. Restrain your desires, and you will find that which
your heart longs for: how can you tell that your desire is
according to the will of God?

360. If you desire to have your soul in peace and comfort,
and to serve God in truth, do not rest satisfied with what
you have done in the way of self-denial, for it may be that
on the new road you have entered, you may find yourself as
much hindered, or even more than you were, but give up
everything that you have.

361. If you fail in the practice of self-denial, which is the
sum and root of virtue: every other way is but beating the air,
and you will make no progress, notwithstanding great medi-
tations and communications.

362. Not only do temporal goods, the delights and the
tastes of sense, hinder and thwart the way of God, but
spiritual delights and consolations also, if sought for, or —
to eagerly, disturb the way of virtue.

THE PETITION OF PERFECT LOVE. 389

Ry 363. Such is the nature of our vain concupiscence that. it
i clings to everything: like the dry-rot, which wastes away
what is sound, it has its way both in what is good and what
is bad.
XII.
PRAYER OF THE ENAMOURED SOUL.

O Lord God, my Love, if Thou art still mindful of my sins,
| and will not grant my petitions, Thy will be done, for that
| is my chief desire. Show Thou Thy goodness and mercy,
| and Thou shalt be known by them. [If it be that Thou art

waiting for me to-do good works, that in thera Thou mayest
grant my petition, do Thou give them and work them in me:
send also the penalties which Thou wilt accept, and do Thou
: inflict them. But if Thou art not waiting for my good
works; what art Thou waiting for, O Most Merciful Lord ?
why tarriest Thou? For if at last it must be grace and
mercy, and I pray for it in Thy Son, do Thou accept my
worthless offering, according to Thy will, and give me this
good also according to Thy will. O Lord, Omnipotent, my
spirit has fainted within me because it has forgotten to feed
upon Thee. I knew Thee not, O my Lord, when I went
after vanity.
) Who can free himself from base and mean ways, if Thou,
| O my God, wilt not lift him up to Thee in pure love? Thou
) hastenest joyfully and lovingly, O Lord, to raise up him who
has offended Thee, but I make no haste to honour and raise
him up who has offended me. How shall a man raise him-
self up to Thee, for he is born and bred in misery, if Thou
wilt not lift him up with the hand that made him? O Lord,
omnipotent, if the shadow of the power of Thy justice in
earthly sovereigns who govern and rule the nations can do
so much, what must be Thy omnipotent justice, dealing with
the just man and the sinner ?
O Lord my God, Thou art not estranged from him who

390 SPIRITUAL MAXIMS.

does not estrange himself from Thee. How is it that men
say thou art absent? O Lord my God, who is there that
seeks Thee in pure and true love, who does not find Thee to
be the joy of his will? It is Thou who art the first to show
Thyself, going forth to meet those who desire to meet Thee.
Thou wilt not take away from me, O my God, what Thou
hast once said to me in Thy Only Begotten Son Jesus Christ,
in Whom Thou dost tell me all I desire. I will therefore
rejoice, Thou wilt not tarry if I wait for Thee. Wait in hope
then, O my soul, for from henceforth thou mayest love God
in thy heart.

The heavens are mine, the earth is mine, and the nations
are mine: mine are the just, and the sinners are mine: mine
are the Angels, the Mother of God, and all things are mine:
God Himself is mine and for me, because Christ is mine, and
all for me. What dost thou then ask for, what dost thou
seek for,O my soul? All is thine, all is for thee, do not take
less, nor rest with the crumbs which fall from the table of
thy Father. Go forth and exult in thy glory, hide thyself
in it, and rejoice, and thou shalt obtain all the desires of thy
heart.

O sweetest love of God, too little known; he who has
found thee is at rest: let everything be changed, O my God,
that we may rest in Thee. Everywhere with Thee, O my
God, everywhere all things with Thee as I wish. O my Love,
all for Thee, nothing for me: nothing for Thee, everything
forme. All sweetness and delight for Thee, none for me:
all bitterness and trouble for me, none for Thee. O my God,
how sweet to me Thy presence, who art the Supreme Good.
I will draw near to Thee in silence, and will uncover Thy
feet*, that it may please Thee to unite me to Thyself, making
my soul Thy bride: I will rejoice in nothing till I am in
thine arms. O Lord, I beseech Thee, leave me not for a
moment, because I know not the value of my soul.

* Ruth iii. 7, 9.

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POEMS.

-— +o

THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.

In an obscure night,

With anxious love inflamed,
O, happy lot!

Forth unobserved I went,
My house being now at rest.

In darkness and security,

By the secret ladder, disguised,
O, happy lot!

In darkness and concealment,
My house being now at rest.

In that happy night,

In secret, seen of none,

Seeing nought myself,

Without other light or guide

Save that which in my heart was burning,

Iv
That light guided me
More surely than the noonday sun
To the place where He was waiting for me,
Whom I knew well,
And where none but He appeared.

394

THE OBSCURE NIGHT OF THE SOUL.

Vv
O, guiding night;
O, night more lovely than the dawn ;
O, night that hast united
The Lover with His beloved,
And changed her into her Love.

VI
On my flowery bosom,
Kept whole for Him alone,
He reposed and slept ;

I kept Him, and the waving
Of the cedars fanned Him.

VI

Then His hair floated in the breeze
That blew from the turret;

He struck me on the neck

With His gentle hand,

And all sensation left me. '

VILL

I continued in oblivion lost,

My head was resting on my Love;
I fainted away, abandoned,

And, amid the lilies forgotten,
Threw all my cares away.

rr SPIRITUAL CANTICLE BETWEEN THE SOUL
AND CHRIST.

I
THE BRIDE.
Wuere hast Thou hidden Thyself?
Why hast Thou forsaken me in my groaning, O my
Beloved ?
Thou didst fly like the hart, away,

| When Thou hadst wounded me.

I ran after Thee, crying; but Thou wert gone.

I

O shepherds, you who go
Through the sheepcots up the hill,
If you shall see Him
Whom I love,

Tell Him I languish, agonize, and die.
sa?

In search of my Love

I will traverse mountains and strands ;

I will gather no flowers,

I will fear no wild beasts ;
And I will overpass the mighty and the frontiers.

Iv
Ye groves and thickets

Planted by the hand of the Beloved ;
Ye verdant meads

Enamelled with flowers ; + i

Tell me, has He passed by you? -

396

A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE

v
ANSWER OF THE CREATURES. *

A thousand graces diffusing

He passed through the groves in haste,
And beholding them only

As He passed,

He clothed them with His beauty.

VI
THE BRIDE.

O who can heal me?

Give me perfectly Thyself,

Send me no more

A messenger

Who cannot tell me what I seek.

Vil

All they who serve

Relate a thousand graces of Thee ; :
And all wound me more and more, ‘
And they leave me dying,
While they babble I know not what. |

Vill

But how thou perseverest, O life !
Not living where thou livest;

The arrows bring death

Which thou receivest

From thy conceptions of the Beloved.

1X
Why, after wounding
This heart, hast Thou not healed it ?
And why, after stealing it,
Hast Thou thus abandoned it, :
And not carried away what Thou hast stolen ?

aa

Quench Thou my troubles, ©

For none else can do so;

And let mine eyes behold Thee

Who art their light,

And it is for Thee alone I would use them.

XI

Reveal Thy presence,

And let the vision of Thy beauty kill me.

Behold, the disease

Of love is incurable

Except in Thy presence and in the light of Thy
countenance.

XII

O Fount of crystal !

O that on Thy silvered surface

Thou wouldest mirror forth at once
Those eyes desirable

Which I have in my heart delineated !

xT

Turn them away, O my Beloved !
I fly away.
THE BRIDEGROOM.
Return, My Dove!
The wounded hart
Looms on the hill
In the air of thy flight and is refreshed.

XIV

THE BRIDE,

My Beloved is the mountains,
The solitary wooded valleys,

The strange islands,

The roaring torrents,

The whisper of the amorous gales ;

pe gee

ra ry
> 1) ee

-)

ve |

4

Pee ied ed & oe

-

398

A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE

XV a : ae
The tranquil night :
At the approaches of the dawn,
The silent music,
The murmuring solitude,
The supper which revives, and enkindles love.

XVI \
Catch us the foxes, -
For our vineyard hath flourished ; ~
While of roses
We make a nosegay,

And let no one appear on the hill.

XVII
Cease, O thou killing north wind !
Come, O south wind, thou that awakenest love !
Blow through my garden,
And let its odours flow,
And my Beloved shall feed among the flowers.

XVIII
O nymphs of Judea!
While amid the flowers and the rose-trees
The amber sends forth its perfume,
Tarry in the suburbs,
And touch not my threshold.

XIX
Hide Thyself, O my Beloved!
Let Thy face shine on the mountains.
Do not tell it,
But regard the companions
Of her who traverses strange islands.

XxX
THE BRIDEGROOM.
Light-winged birds,
Lions, fawns, bounding deer,
Mountains, valleys, strands, “
Waters, winds, fires, ;
And the terrors that keep watch by night ;

a

ee a eee
And there reposes to her heart's content ;

Her neck reclining
On the sweet arms of her Beloved.

XXIII
Beneath the apple-tree
I espoused thee :
There I gave thee My hand,
And thou wert there redeemed
Where thy mother was corrupted,

XXIV
THE BRIDE. | ~ ae
Din bedin of Bstrens “an
By the dens of lions encompassed, +
_ Hung with purple, —_
ee Made in peace,
And crowned with a thousand shields of gold.

XXV
In Thy footsteps
The young ones run Thy way ;
At the touch of the fire,
And by the spiced wine,
The Divine balsam flows,

XXVI
_ In the inmost cellar
- Of my Beloved have I drunk; and when I went forth dl
Over all the plain a
I knew nothing, ee
And lost the flock I followed before. |

A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE

XXVIT
There He gave me His breasts, :
There He taught me the science full of sweetness,
And there I gave to Him
Myself without reserve ;
There I promised to be His Bride.

XXVIII
My soul is occupied,
And all my substance in His service ;
Now I guard no flock,
Nor have I any other employment:
My sole occupation is love.

XXIX
If, then, on the common
I am no longer seen or found,
Say that I am lost ;
That, being enamoured,
I lost myself; and yet I gained.

XXX
Of emeralds, and of flowers
In the early morning culled,
We will make the garlands,
Flowering in Thy love,
And bound together with one hair of my head.

XXXI
By that one hair
Thou hast observed fluttering on my neck,
And hast regarded on my neck, ie
Thou wert captivated ;
And wounded by one of my eyes.

XXXII
When Thou didst regard me,
Thine eyes imprinted Thy grace in me:
For this didst Thou love me again,
And thereby mine eyes did merit
To adore what in Thee they. saw.

THE BRIDEGROOM.

Tue little white dove
Has returned to the ark with the bough ;
And now the turtle-dove |
Her desired mate
On the green banks has found.
XXXV
In solitude she lived,
And in solitude built her nest ;
And in solitude, alone _ a
Hath the Beloved guided her, aa
In solitude also wounded with her love. ,

XXXVI

THE BRIDE.
Let us rejoice, O my Beloved!
Let us go forth to see ourselves in Thy beauty,
To the mountain and the hill,
Where the pure water flows;
Let us enter into the heart of the thicket.

XXXVII

We shall go at once

To the lofty caverns of the rocks

Which are all secret,

There we shall enter in

And taste of the new wine of the pomegranate.
DD

402

A SPIRITUAL CANTICLE,

XXXVIII

There Thou wilt show me

What my soul desired ;

And there Thou wilt give at once,

O Thou, my life!

What Thou gavest me the other day,

XXXIX

The breathing of the air,

The song of the sweet nightingale,

The grove and its beauty

In the serene night,

With the fire that consumes, but without pain.

XL
None saw it ;
Neither did Aminadab appear.
The siege was intermitted,
And the cavalry dismounted
At the vision of the waters.

i a, Te a

THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE.

—-— 2

I

O trvine Flame of Love,

That woundest tenderly

My soul in its inmost depth !

As Thou art no longer grievous,
Perfect Thy work, if it be Thy will,
Break the web in this sweet encounter.

I
O sweet burn !
O delicious wound !
O tender hand! O gentle touch !
Savouring of everlasting life,
And paying the whole debt,

In destroying death Thou hast changed it into life,

mI
O Lamps of fire,
In whose splendours
The deep caverns of sense,
Obscure and dark,
With unwonted brightness
Give light and heat together to the Beloved.

IV

How gently and how lovingly

Thou liest awake in my bosom,
Where alone Thou secretly dwellest ;
And in Thy sweet breathing

Full of grace and glory,

How tenderly Thou fillest me with Thy love.

pp?

404

A SOUL LONGING FOR THE VISION OF GOD.

ee

I Live, and yet not I,
In a manner hoping
That I am dying because I am not dead.

I
I am not now living in myself,

And without God I cannot live ;

For without Him, I am also without myself.
This life of mine, what is it?

A thousand deaths to me;

For in my very life I hope

That I am dying because I am not dead. »

i °
This life that I am living
Is but a lifeless life.
And so, a death continuing
Until I come to live with Thee.
O God, hear thou my cry !
This life of mine I will it not;
I die because I am not dead.

I
When I am away from Thee,
What is my life to me?

The agony of death.

None greater have I seen.
O, wretched that I am !

For thus I persevere;

I die because I am not dead.

IV
The fish that from the water leapeth »
Is there not unrelieved ;
The death that it endures

A SOUL LONGING FOR THE VISION OF GOD. 405

Does end in death at last.
What death can ever equal

My misery of life?
For I, the more I live, the more I am not dead.
v

When I see Thee in the Sacrament
And begin to be relieved,

The absence of fruition

Creates a deeper pang ;

In all things greater suffering,
And I am sick at heart

And die, because I am not dead.

vI
And if, O Lord, I have a joy
In hopes of seeing Thee ;
My sorrow is increased,
Because I still may lose Thee.
Living in dread so great
And hoping as I hope,
I die, because I am not dead.

vu

Deliver me from this death,

O God, and give me life,

Nor let these fetters hold me;

They are so strong :

Behold, I die to see Thee,

And in a manner hoping

That I am dying, because I am not dead.

y i
PAD ye.

vu
My death I will bewail then,

And lament my life

By reason of my sins

Still here prolonged.

O my God, when shall I be there
Where I may truly sy,

I live at last because I am not dead?

ECSTASY OF CONTEMPLATION,

I ENTERED, but I knew not where,
And there I stood nought knowing,
All science transcending.

I

I knew not where I entered,

For, when I stood within,

Not knowing where I was,

I heard great things.

What I heard I will not tell:

I was there as one who knew not,
All science transcending.

il

Of peace and devotion

I had perfect knowledge,
In solitude profound;
The right way was clear,
But so secret was it,
That I stood babbling,
All science transcending.

Il

I stood enraptured

In ecstasy, beside myself,

And in my every sense

No sense remained.

My spirit was endowed

With understanding, understanding nought,
All science transcending.

And all his previous knowledge
Seems ever less and less;

His science grows, and he
Abides as one nought knowing,
All science transcending.

vi

re This knowing of nought knowing

as Is so potent in its might

ie} That the prudent in their reasoning

et Never can defeat it ; a
For their wisdom never reaches a
To the understanding that understandeth nothing, |
All science transcending.

vil

This sovereign wisdom

Is of an excellence so high

That no faculty nor science

Can ever unto it attain.

He who shall overcome himself :
By the knowledge which knows nothing, -
He will always have it, all science transcending.

-

It is an act of His compassion,

, 3 | To abide, nought understanding, — 3
ey | All science trenoboeting. aye

Is the wake of a loving cast,
And not of hope abandoned,
I mounted higher and higher,

So that I came in sight of the prey.

"
That I might come in sight
Of that cast Divine, a
I was forced to fly so high in
As to be lost to sight; 2
Yet in that act supreme

I grew weaker in my flight,
But my love was still so strong
That I came in sight of the prey.

When I ascended higher a
My sight grew faint and dim, a
And the greatest acquisition |
In obscurity was made ;

But as my love was violent
Blindly forth I leapt,

I mounted higher and higher,

So that I came in sight of the prey.

IV

In a way most strange mr
I made a thousand flights in one,
For the hope that is from heaven,
What it hopes, attains ;

410

ECSTASY OF CONTEMPLATION.

For this cast alone I hoped,

And my hope was not in vain,

For I mounted higher and higher,
So that I came in sight of the prey.

W,

But the nearer I drew

To this cast sublime,

The more lowly, base, and vile,

And humiliated I grew.

I said, none can reach it;

I abased myself still more and more;
So that I mounted higher and higher,
So that I came in sight of the prey.

Without light and in darkness living,
I see myself wasting away.

| I
My soul lives in detachment
From every thing created, i
And raised above itself a: -
Into a life delicious, a
Of God alone supported.
And therefore I will say,
That what I most esteem
Is that my soul is now
Without support, and with support.

ul

And though I am in darkness,

In this my mortal life

My misery is not so great:

For if I have not light

I have the life celestial ;

For in the love of that life,

In obscurity the greatest

The soul is submissive,

Without light and in darkness living.
ut

Love has wrought this;

Since I have known it,

That be it ill or well with me

I have the same pleasure.

It has transformed my soul ;

3 And so in its sweet flame,

aa Which in myself I feel,

sa I see myself rapidly burning rs
PS And wasting away.

412

THE SAME SUBJECT.

en oi Sol

For all the beauty of the world
Never will I lose myself,

But only for that I know not,
Which may happily be found.

I
Sweetness of good that is finite,
The utmost it can do
Is to pall upon the appetite
And vitiate the taste.
For all the sweetness in the world
Never will I lose myself,
But only for that I know not,
Which may happily be found.

ul
The generous heart
Will never rest
Where it can be at ease,
But only where it meets with difficulties ;
Nought can ever satisfy it ;
And its faith ascends so high
As to taste of that I know not,
Which may happily be found.

Te
He that is on fire with love
Divinely touched of God
Receives a taste so new
That all his own are gone.
Like one who of a fever ill
Disdains the food before him,
And longs for that I know not,
Which may happily be found.

That the taste should thus be changed ;
For the cause of this affection
Es And so the whole creation a
And tastes that I know not,

Which may happily be found.

Vv

* For when once the will

cS 4 Has been touched of God,
me It never can be satisfied

Except in God alone. J
But because His beauty c-
Is such that faith alone can see it, fe
It tastes it in I know not what,
Which may happily be found.

vi

And now of Him enamoured,
Tell me if you are in pain ;
For as He has no sweetness

Tn all created things,

But without form and figure,
Without support or rest,
Tasting there I know not what,
Which may happily be found.

vil

Do not think the inner heart,

Which is of priceless worth,

Rejoices or is glad

In that which here sweetness gives ;

But rather above all beauty raised ,

That is, can be, or has ever been,

Tastes there I know not what, :
Which may happily be found.

poms + Dx

414 GOD THE SUPREME GOOD,

Vill

He who seeks a greater gain

Will rather turn his thoughts

To that he has not acquired

Than to that he has already.

And therefore for a greater venture
I shall always be inclined,
Neglecting all for that I know not,
Which may happily be found.

Ix

For all that in the way of sense
I may obtain on earth,
And all I may understand,
However high it may be—
For all grace and beauty—
Never will I lose myself;

' But only for that I know not,
Which may happily be found.

SONG OF THE SOUL REJOICING IN THE KNOW.
a”. LEDGE OF GOD BY FAITH. a

8

I xnow the fountain well which flows and runs,
Though of the night.

a I
Bk That everlasting fountain is a secret well, -
i: And I know well its home, a
Though of the night. 2

0
Its source I know not, because it has none ;

But I know that therein all things have their source,
Though of the night.

. i
I know that nothing can be in beauty like it,
And that of it heaven and earth do drink,

Though of the night.

Iv :
I know well it is of depths unfathomable, ‘
And that none may ever sound it,

Though of the night.

v

Its brightness never is obscured,

And I know that from it all light proceeds,
Though of the night.

— ‘ VI a

- ee I know its streams are so abundant, :

ss

Patt = © 7 .. 4

+i WOES aes Cat
> "aT he *

7 ie. eae ay a
é er " , “y Ss) woe — - 4
a oe A rw te kn
aa ee eh ee eA es Pe Schima,
Pe on 7 rs ny Oe a.
¥' : o°* 2 “ses

It waters hell and heaven and earth, ye. *
‘Though of the night. ——

-

“ ae

416

KNOWLEDGE OF GOD BY FAITH.

VII

The torrent that from this fountain rises
I know well, is so grand and so strong,
Though of the night.

VIII
The torrent that from Both proceeds,

I know that Neither of them It precedes,
Though of the night.

IX

This everlasting fountain lies concealed

In the living Bread to give us life,
Though of the night.

x

It calls on every creature to-be filled
With its waters, but in the darkness,
Though of the night,

xI
This living fount which I desire

I see it in this Bread of life,
Though of the night.

|
;

/ SONG OF CHRIST AND THE SOUL.

— eo —

*

‘Ture is a shepherd alone in his grief, af
. Deprived of all pleasure and joy, ae
His thoughts on his shepherdess intent, —
And his heart is by love most cruelly torn.

a He weeps, not because wounded with love, an
x" Nor because of the pain of his grief, =e

‘ie Though his heart has been pierced so deep;
a | But because he thinks he is forgot.

Il
His beautiful shepherdess, so does he think,

Has forgotten him: that thought alone
Overwhelms him with grief in a land not his own,
And his heart is by love most cruelly torn.

Iv ‘
The shepherd exclaims, ah wretch that I am! ie
For I am abandoned and left; “J
My presence is shunned by my love,
And my heart for her love is most cruelly torn.

v «: ae
At last he was raised on a tree, —
Where he opened his beautiful arms,
And hanging thereby breathed his last,
His heart by love most cruelly torn.

41s

THE MOST HOLY TRINITY.

(Jn principio erat verbum.)

I

In the beginning was the Word,
The Word was God,

In Whom He possessed

Bliss everlasting.

II

That very Word was God,
And the Beginning as well ;
He was in the Beginning,
And yet had none.

III

He was the Beginning Itself,
And therefore had none ;
The Word is the Son,

From the beginning born.

IV

He has begotten for ever,

And is for ever begetting ;

He has given Him of His substance for ever,

And has it for ever Himself. ;

v

And thus the glory of the Son
Is that He hath in the Father,
And all His glory the Father
Hath in the Son.

'
a

“As the

‘So this Love which Both unites

Sa"

Each in the Other living,

° Vil

In dignity and might
Coequal with Them Both,
Three Persons, one Love,
The Three are One.

VIII a
And in the Three one Love, a
One Lover makes of All; -
The Lover is the Love .
In Whom Each doth live.

Ix
The Being which the ‘Three possess
And of the Three Each One exults
In that He hath this Being.

-

x
This Being is Each One,
And makes Them One alone
In a way ineffable,
Beyond all thoughts or word.

XI

And so that Love which makes Them One
Is Infinite Itself ;

For one Love make One the Three,

And is their Being as well.

And that Love the more it makes Them One
The more It is Their Love.

420

THE COMMUNICATION OF THE THREE PERSONS.

——_—_~Co——

I

In the Love from Both proceeding
It hath limits none.

The Sire uttered words of gladness
To His only Son.

II

Words they were of joy profoundest,
Understood of none,

But of Him exulting in them
Whose they were—the Son.

lil

Of these words of gladness, only
This was heard by me—

Nought, my Son, can give Me pleasure
When I have not Thee.

IV

But if aught should give Me pleasure,
That I seek in Thee,

He who gives to Thee most pleasure
Gives it most to Me.

f

He who Thee in nought resembleth
Cannot be like Me.

Life of Life, My whole rejoicing
Is alone in Thee.

Thee, My Son, he who loveth
Shall have love of Me,
And the love wherewith I love him
Is My love of Thee. -
So great, then, is My love of Thee, that he
Who loveth Thee shall be also loved by Me.

422

THE CREATION.

I

O my Son, I long to give Thee
In My love a loving bride,
Who shall by Thy goodness merit
With Us ever to abide:

Il

Who shall, at the heavenly banquet,
Eating of My bread with Me,

Learn to know the wondrous treasure,
What I have, My Son, in Thee;

Ill

And that in Thy grace and beauty,
As a glory round her shed,
She with Me may joy together.
He gave the Sire thanks, and said :—

1V

On the bride which Thou wilt give Me
I My brightness will bestow,
So that she My Father’s goodness
In its light may love and know;
Learning also how My Being
From His Being doth outflow.

Vv

With My arms I will embrace her,
And Thy love shall be her light,
So for ever shall Thy goodness
Be exalted with delight.

ee a en
urd

THE SAME SUBJECT.

a
= ‘

- ae

rece 8 a

Pa

peek oe

Pe

For the merits of Thy love, then,
‘ Be it done,’ the Father said ;

In the word the Father uttered
All created things were made.

In the everlasting wisdom
Rose the palace of the bride,

Which two substances created
In a twofold form divide.

tt 3
With varieties unnumbered
Was the lower part arrayed,
While the higher glowed in beauty,
With the wondrous gems displayed.

Iv

That the bride might know the Bridegroom
Who her heavenly nuptials graced,

The Angelic hosts in order
In the higher part were placed.

Vv

Man was placed—his nature lower—
In the lower part on earth,

Being fashioned of a substance
Which was of inferior worth.

424

THE CREATION.

VI

And although both place and nature
God in this way did divide,

Yet the two are, both together, _-
But one body of the bride.

Vil

And the two, although divided,
Are one bride in His one love,
Who, in gladness, as the Bridegroom
Is possessed of those above.

vill

Those below in hope are living
Of the faith that He has given,

For He one day will exalt them—
He hath said so—unto heaven.

Ix
For of those of base condition
He will take away the shame,
And exalt them, so that nothing
Shall remain to them of blame.

x

He in all things with their likeness
Will Himself one day invest ;

He will come and dwell among them,
As His own elected rest.

xI
God Himself will be Incarnate, .
God will have a human birth; vs
Eating, He will come, and drinking,
And converse with men on earth

xII |
He will dwell Himself among them |
And continually stay,
Till the final consummation—
When the ages melt away.

For to Him belongs the Headship
Of the bride, and she is His.

xIV
He shall bring the just together—
Nought shall them from her divide —
For they are the living members
Of the body of the bride. -

xv

He will tenderly embrace her,
He will give her of His love,

And, united with Him, take her,
To His Father’s home above.

xvI

Into joy shall she then enter :
God no greater joy can give ;

When absorbed in Him for ever
She the life of God shall live.

So the Father, Son, and Spirit,
Three in One and One in Three,

Live, Each living in the Other,
The most blessed Trinity.

ee

Wet ke ee
es

j
in

. "i :
_ ae
4 i SS J
= =e: -
if .
ar ae ie Es

= es
wel

Dd aca
_ >

THE DESIRES OF THE HOLY FATHERS.

oO

I

WHEN the ancient Saints were waiting,
Hope came down to their relief,
And made lighter by its presence
The sore pressure of their grief.

II

But still, hope deferred, together
With the longing which they had

To behold the promised Bridegroom,
Made them sick at heart, and sad.

Ill

Pouring forth their supplications—
In their misery they lay,
Sighing, weeping, and lamenting,
With strong crying night and day,—

IV

That He would the times determine,
And among them come and stay :
‘O that I,’ so one entreated,
‘ Might rejoice to see His day!’

b

‘ Hasten, then, Thy work, and finish ;

Send Him, Lord, Whom Thou wilt send,’
Was the cry of one. Another’s,

*O that He the heavens would rend !°

And my wail be turned to mirth ;
Let the clouds rain down the Just One,
So long desired on the earth; ’

vu
‘Let the earth which brought forth briers
Now break forth, and in their room
Let it bear the sacred flower
Which shall ever on it bloom.’

vu

Others also: ‘O how blessed
Shall that generation be !

Which shall merit in time coming
God’s Most Holy Face to see ;’

| | Ix
* Men shall throng around, and touch, Him,
They shall in His sight remain ;
In the Sacraments rejoicing
He Himself shall then ordain.’

~

428

THE SAME SUBJECT.

— eO«-—-

I

TxEsE and other supplications,
As the centuries rolled by,

Men poured forth: with greater fervour
As the promised time drew nigh.

II

Aged Simeon in the furnace
Of his longing, burning lay,
Praying God that He would grant him
Of His grace to see that day.

Ill

And the Ever-blessed Spirit
Condescended to his cry ;

And consoled him with the promise
That the old man should not die

IV

Till he saw the Ever-living
God, descended from above,

Took Him in his arms and held Him,
And embraced Him in His love.

THE INCARNATION.

— oo

I 3 -,

In the fulness of the ages Pe

Now had come the holy tide, | —
For the payment of the ransom
Of the long-expectant bride,

u
Groaning in the house of bondage
Underneath the legal yoke

Of the precepts given by Moses.
When these words the Father spoke :

I, my Son, have in Thy likeness
And Thy image made Thy bride,

And in that resemblance worthy
To be ever at Thy side ;

Iv

But in one respect unlike Thee,
For her nature is not Thine :

She is flesh—her nature human—
While Thy nature is Divine.

v

Perfect love demands a likeness
In the lovers it unites,

For the most complete resemblance -
Moet aboundeth in delights.

THE INCARNATION,

VI
Now the love and exultation
Of the bride would greatly grow
If she saw Thee in her likeness, —
In the flesh, on earth below.

vil
Then the Son the Father answered,
Lo! My will is ever Thine,
And My glory which I cherish
Is that Thine is also Mine.

Vil
I am ready at Thy bidding,
For Thy will is my delight,
To make known at once Thy goodness
And Thy wisdom and Thy might.

IX
I will manifest Thy justice,

And proclaim throughout the earth
Thy supremacy and beauty

And the sweetness of Thy worth.

x
I will go and seek My bride, then,
And upon Myself will take

All the poverty and sorrows
She now suffers for My sake.

xI

And that I true life may give her,
I will give for her My own,

So shall I present her, rescued
From the pit, before Thy throne.

<a ees

THE SAME SUBJECT.

Oe

Gop then summoned the Archangel
Holy Gabriel—him He sent

To the Blessed Virgin Mary
To obtain the Maid’s consent.

She consented : in that instant

The mysterious work was done,
And the Trinity a body

Wrought and fashioned for the Son.

I
In this wondrous operation,

Though the Sacred Three concurred,
He Who in the womb of Mary

Was Incarnate, is the Word.

IV
He Who had a Father only ay
Had a Mother also then : ~4

But it was in other fashion
Than the manner is of men.

v

In the womb of Holy Mary
He His flesh did then receive :
So the Son of God Most Highest
We the Son of Man believe.

432

THE NATIVITY,

——~o—_——

I
Now at last the destined ages
Their appointed course had run,
When rejoicing from His chamber
Issued forth the Bridegroom Son.

u
He embraced His bride, and held her
Lovingly upon His breast,
And the gracious Mother laid Him
In the manger down to rest.

UI
There He lay, the dumb beasts by Him,
They were fitly stabled there,
While the shepherds and the angels
Filled with melody the air.

IV
So the feast of their espousals
With solemnity was kept ;
But Almighty God, an Infant,
In the manger moaned and wept.

Vv
So the bride at her betrothal
Did the bridal gifts arrange ;
But the Mother looked in wonder
At the marvellous exchange.

VI

Man gave forth a song of gladness,
God Himself a plaintive moan ;

Both possessing that which never
Had been hitherto their own.

, y-T - ae ee “a
aig!
‘ o : a: d

* ‘ - y'

VOL. It.

Z
ie
ay

SUPER FLUMINA BABYLONIS,
(Ps, exxxyi.)

— 2

I

By the waters of the river—
Close by Babylon it swept—

On the banks—my tears were flowing—
There I sat me down and wept.

IL
I remembered thee, O Sion,
With thy love my heart was sore;
Sweet to me was thy memorial,
So I wept still more and more,

m1
Of my festal robes divested,
Those of woe around me flung
While my silent harp suspended
From the willow branches hung.

Iv
There I left it; fondly trusting,
For my hopes in thee still lay.
Love my heart had deeply wounded,
And had carried it away.

v
So, I said, my wound is grievous;
O let love me wholly slay.
Into its fires then I threw me,
That I might be burned away.
FF

434

SUPER FLUMINA BABYLONIS.

VI
Now the silly moth I blame not,
That in the fire seeks its death ;
For I, while in myself but dying,
Draw in thee alone my breath.

vu
I for thee to death submitted,
And for thee to life returned ;
For in thy most sweet memorial
Life and death were both inurned.

VIII
In their merriment exulting,
Heedless of the captive’s wrongs,
Strangers bade me rise and sing them
Sion’s old familiar songs.

Ix
Sing us of the songs of Sion ;
We would hear them—strange demand— _
How can I, lamenting Sion,
Sing them in a foreign land?

x
In the chants once so familiar
How can I uplift my voice?
May they never be remembered
If in exile I rejoice!

xI
Let my tongue, from speech refraining,
To my palate silent cleave ;
If I, in the land of exile, |
Where I dwell alone and grieve, F

x11
Even amidst the verdant bowers
Of the Babylonic land
Should forget thee. Let my right hand
Cease its cunning to command

Thou, of Babylon the daughter,
Shalt lie prostrate in the dust,
Lost and wretched ; but for ever
Blest is He in Whom I trust.

xv

In the day of retribution
He will thee at last afflict;
He will lay on thee the burden
Thou didst once on me inflict.

XVI

He will me, thy weeping captive,
With thy little children take,

And to Christ the Rock will bring them-—
I have left thee for His sake.

-

Pagl

J ‘ cribs bs ©

age tee =i
Peat: roe hy

Fein, RS

INDEX

To

PASSAGES FROM HOLY SCRIPTURE.

“4 Ch. Ver. Vol. Page
. i, 3, m 289.
» 31, m. 38.
ii. 24, mm. 120,
vi. 21,0. 75,
viii. 9,1. 73.
a2 ‘6:

xii. 8, 1 811.
xiii. 4, 1 311.

xv. 7, 1 134.

» 8, ©. 134.
» 17, m. 256.
xvi. 13, 1 311.

xvii. 1, 1. 199.
xxi. 8, 1. 359.
= 10, 19.
» 18, © 316.
xxii. 2, 1 311.
' xxvii, 22, 2, 190.
xxviii, 12, 1. 432.
xxix. 18, 1 311.

nw» 20, 1. 435.

xxxi. 34, 1 205.
xxxv. 2,1 21.
xlvi. 3, 1. 134.
xlix. 4, 1. 37.

GENESIS.

Let light be.

God saw all the things that He had made.

They shall be two in one flesh.

Thou shalt take unto thee of all food that may be eaten.

She not finding where her foot might rest.

Come ye therefore, let us go down and there confound
their tongue.

Abram built an altar to the Lord.

Abram called upon God at the altar which he had made
before.

I brought thee out from Ur of the Chaldees to give thee
this land. .

Whereby may I know that I shall possess it,

A lamp of fire passing.

Agar gave a name to the place where the angel appeared
to her.

Walk before me and be perfect.

Abraham made a great feast.

Cast out this bond-woman and her son.

I will make the son of the bond-woman a great nation.

Take thy only begotten son Isaac.

The voice is the voice of Jacob.

He saw in his sleep a ladder.

Jacob consecrated the place where the Lord appeared to
him.

Jacob served seven years for Rachel.

xxx. 1, t. 416, 437; 1.42. Give me children, otherwise I shall die.

Laban searches for his lost idols.

Cast away the strange gods. A
Fear not, go down into Egypt.

Thou art poured out as water, grow thou not.

440 INDEX TO

EXODUS.
Ch. Ver. Vol. Page

iii, 5, 1. 361. Put off the shoes from thy feet.
» 6, 1. 83, 361. Moses durst not behold.
» 1%, 26. I have seen the affliction of my people.
iv. 10, 1. 428. I am not eloquent.
» 14, 1.161. Aaron the Levite is thy brother.
vii. 11, 1.449. Pharao’s magicians wrought signs and wonders resembling
those of Moses.
viii. 7, 1.449. The magicians did in like manner.
xii. 35, 1. 271. The Egyptians are spoiled by the Israelites.
xiv. 20, 1 60. It was a dark cloud enlightening the night.
xvi. 4, 1 19. I will rain bread from heaven for you.
xviii. 33, 1. 23. Lay up the manna before the Lord.
» 21, 1 163, 249. Provide out of all the people able men,
xix. 9, 1. 86. I will come to thee in the darkness of a cloud,
xxiii. 8, 1. 249. Neither shalt thou take bribes.
xxiv. 12, 1.311. God gave His law to Moses on Mount Sinai.
xxvil. 8, 1, 22, Thou shalt not make the altar solid but empty.
xxxii. 31, 1.438. Forgive them this trespass,
» 985, L 304. The Lord therefore struck the people for ... the calf
which Aaron had made.
xxxili. 4, m. 271. No man put on his ornaments.
» 18,0. 56,176. Show me Thy face that I may know Thee.
» 20, 1. 82, 229, 1. 57,193. Man shall not see me and live.
_,, 22, 1.170. Iwill set thee in a hole of the rock.
» 9 i. 801. I will protect thee with my right hand.
» 23.m. 18, 106, 193. I will take away my hand, and thon shalt see
my back parts.
xxxiv. 3, 1 20. Let not any man be seen throughout all the Mount.
» 6, 1.176. 1. 255. O the Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious.
» 30,1. 98. The people seeing the face of Moses were afraid.
xl, 33, 1.115. The cloud covering all things and the majesty of the
Lord shining.

LEVITICUS.
x. 1, 1. 22,304, Nadab and Abiu ... offering before the Lord
strange fire,
NUMBERS.
xi. 4, % 19. Who will give us flesh to eat?

» 5, 1. 350. We remember the fish that we ate in Egypt.
» 33, 1.150, As yet the meat was in their mouth.

NUMBERS—continued.

If there be among you a prophet of the Lord.
Take back the rod of Aaron into the tabernacle.
Balaam sold the gift of God for money.

Arise and go.

God was angry with Balaam.

Thy way is perverse and contrary to me.

DEUTERONOMY.

iv. 11, 1.117. There was darkness, and a cloud, and obscurity.
» 12, 1117. You heard the voice of His words, but you saw not any
form at all.
» 15, 1.117. You saw not any similitude in the day that the Lord
God spoke to you.
» 24, 1. 209, 236. The Lord thy God is a consuming fire.
vi. 5, 1. 240,407. Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole
heart. .
xxx. 20,, 27. He is thy life.
xxxi. 21,u. 26. For I know their thoughts.
» 26, 1. 23. Take this book and put it into the side of the ark.
xxxii. 15, 1. 248. He forsook God who made him.
» 33,u. 28, Their wine is the gall of dragons.

JOSUE.

vi. 21, 1. 44, They took the city and killed all that were in it.
ix. 14, 1.156. They took of their victuals.

JUDGES.

Wherefore I would not destroy them .. . that their gods
may be your ruin. ,

Arise, and go down into the camp.

Gideon gave them lamps within the pitchers.

The angel of the Lord ascended in the flame.

We shall certainly die, because we have seen God.

How dost thou say thou lovest me ?

Giving him no time to rest, his soul fainted away.

Samson shut up in prison and made to grind.

Michas lamented because of the loss of his images.

Go up, for to-morrow I will deliver them into your hands.

-

My

442

Ch. Ver. Vol. Page
ii. 30, 1 144.

INDEX TO

J. KINGS.
Whosoever shall glorify Me, him will I glorify.

iii. 10, 1. 201, 215. Speak, Lord, for Thy servant heareth.

» 13, 1 144.

2, 1 22.

viii. 7, 1 148.
3, 1. 249.

1, 1. 166.

xxviii, 3, 1. 286.
a 26, '%. 160.
xxx. 7, 1. 160.

xiv. 14,0. 12.

iii. 11, 1, 274.

iv. 29, 1. 283.
viii. 12, 1 86,

xi. 38, 1. 145.

xix. 8, 1. 311.
ae SS Ae
age | Se ae

xxi, 29, 1. 143.

xxii. 11, 1. 115.
» 22, 1 154.

v. 26, 1. 182.
vi. 12, 1. 182.

xi. 18, u. 66.

i. 11, 1 315.
xx. 12, 1. 149.

The sons of Eli did wickedly, and he did not chastise
them.

Behold, Dagon lay upon his face.

Hearken to the voice of the people.

If I have taken a bribe at any man’s hand.

The soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David.

Saul put away all the magicians and soothsayers.

Why hast thou disturbed my rest?

Bring me hither the Ephod.

II. KINGS.
We all die.

Ill. KINGS.

Because thou hast asked this thing.

God gave to Solomon wisdom and understanding.

The Lord said that He would dwell in a cloud. .

If, then, thou wilt walk in My ways ... I will be with
thee.

God revealed himself to Elias at Mount Horeb.

242. The whistling of a gentle air.

170. Elias covered his face.
Because he hath humbled himself for My sake, I will not
bring the evil in his days. :
Sedecias made himself horns of iron.
Thou shalt deceive him and shalt prevail.

IV. KINGS.

Was not my heart present.
Eliseus the prophet telleth the King of Israel all the
words that thou speakest.

I. PARALIPOMENON.
Three men drew water out of the cistern of Bethlehem.

II. PARALIPOMENON.

Because this choice hath pleased thy heart.
As we know not what to do, we can only turn our eyes
to Thee.

Ch. Ver. Vol. Page
vy. 12,0. 53.
vi. 19, = 10.

viii. 2, 1. 398.

xii. 12, m. 26.
» 18, m. 246,

PASSAGES FROM HOLY SCRIPTURE. 443

TOBIAS.

What manner of joy shall be to me who sit in darkness.
On that night lay the liver of the fish on the fire.
Tobias laid the liver of the fish on burning coals.

I offered thy prayer to the Lord.

It was necessary that temptation should prove thee.

xiv. 4. 0. 185, 247. And the rest of his life was in joy.

» 18, © 152.

viii. 11, 1. 317.
xi. 12, 1. 152.

ii. 12, m. 266.
» 18, m. 223.

iv. 1, a. 248.
v. 2, 1 439.
vi. 11, mu. 178.
viii, 4, 1. 439.
xv. 10, m. 301.
S hp me: Oe
» 16, m. 300.

i. 8, m. 247.

» 8, %. 362.

For I see that its iniquity will bring it to destruction.

JUDITH.

Who are you that tempt the Lord.
Therefore because they do these things, it is certain they
will be given to destruction.

ESTHER.

For six months they were anointed with oil of myrrh.

Assuerus exhibited his riches and glory at the marriage
of Esther.

Mordecai rent his garments, and put on sackcloth.

The king held out the golden sceptre to Esther.

This honour is he worthy of.

Esther rose and stood before the king.

With burning eyes he showed the wrath of his heart.

He leaped from his throne.

I saw Thee, my Lord, as an angel of God.

JOB.

Hast thou considered my servant Job, that there is none
like him in the earth?
And he took a potsherd.

iii. 24, 1. 400; 2. 66. As overflowing waters, so is my roaring.

iv. 2, 1. 202,
» 12,m%. 8d
vi. 6, 1 104.

vii. 2. 1. 408,
» 20, 1. 383.
ix. ll, uw. 14.

Who can withhold the words he hath conceived.

My ears by stealth received the veins of its whisper.

Can an unsavoury thing be eaten that is not seasoned
with salt ?

8,1. 43,190. Who will grant that my request may come,

As a soul longeth for the shade.
Why hast Thou set me opposite to Thee.
If He come to me, I shall not see Him.

ite; “tl

Ch. Ver. Vol, Page

x. 16, m. 240.
xii, 22, 1. 390.
xiv. 6,0. 12.
xvi. 13, 1. 388.
xix. 21, 1 384.
1, 241.
25.

” ”

xx. 22, 1.

xxiii, 6, 1. 383;

xxvi. 14, m. 300.
xxix, 18, m. 252.

INDEX TO

JOB—continued.

Returning, Thou tormentest me wonderfully.

He discovereth deep things.

The days of man are short.

I sometime that wealthy one, suddenly am broken.
Have pity on me.

The hand of the Lord hath touched me.

When he shall be filled he shall burn,
nm. 300. I would not that He contend with me.
We have heard scarce a little drop of His word.
As a palm tree I shall multiply my days.

xxx. 16, 1.401. My soul fadeth within myself.
» 17, 1. 862,401. My bone is pierced with sorrows.
xxxi. 27, 1.279. If my heart in secret hath rejoiced.
xxxvii. 16, 1. 430. Knowest thou the path of the clouds.
xxxviii. 1, 1 86, 362. The Lord answered Job out of a whirlwind.
xl. 16, 1.281. He sleepeth under the shadow.
xli. 6, m. 164. His body is like molten shields.
. 24,0. 83. There is no power upon earth.
,, 25, 1.449. He beholdeth every high thing.
xlii, 5,1. 82. With the hearing of the ear I have heard Thee.

PSALMS.

i. 3, m. 237.
cue ay Ake
4,1. 29.

Whatsoever he shall do shall prosper.
Thou shalt rule them with a rod of iron.
My soul is troubled exceedingly.
.10,m. 26. A helper in due time in tribulation.
» 17, 1 141. The Lord hath heard the desire of the poor.
7, 1.409; um. 247. The words of the Lord are pure words.
4, 11.174. Nor will I be mindful of their names by My lips.
2,m. 234. Let my judgment come forth from Thy countenance.
» 4, 1.442. I have kept hard ways.
, 15,m. 21, 228. I shall be satisfied when Thy glory shall appear.
xvii. 5, 1. 385. The sorrows of death surrounded me.
,» 10, 1 85. Darkness was under His feet.
, 12, 1 85, 424; m. 19,67. He made darkness His covert.
, 18, i 382,424. At the brightness that was before Him the clouds

3, 1. 60; u. 290. Day to day uttereth speech.
» 10, 1.176; 0.189. The judgments of the Lord are true.
xx. 4,1. 201. Thou hast prevented him with blessings of sweetness.
1, 443. My eyes are ever towards the Lord.
1. 391. I shall never be moved.
xxx. 20), 11. 201, 240. O how great is the multitude of Thy sweetness.
, 21, 1, 425; 0. 242. Thou shalt hide them in the secret of Thy face.

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PSALMS—continued.
Ch. Ver, Vol. Page
xxxiii. 8,11. 90. The angel of the Lord shall encamp round about them.
» 20,m. 20. Many are the afflictions of the just.
» 22,0. 60. The death of the wicked is very evil.
xxxiy. 3,m. 27. Iam thy salvation.
» 10, 1. 244. Lord, who is like to Thee.
xxxv. 9,u. 27, 138,201. Thou shalt make them drink of the torrent of
Thy pleasure.
xxxvi. 4, 1.439. Delight in the Lord.
xxxvii. 5, 1 29. My iniquities . . . are become heavy upon me.
ma 9, 1.400. I am afflicted and humbled.
» 1ll,ua. 53. The light of my eyes itself is not with me.
xxxviii. 3, 1. 364. I was dumb.
vs 4, 1.411; m. 112, 135. My heart waxed hot within me.
” 7, 1. 220. Surely man passeth as an image.
» 12, 1. 383. Thou hast corrected man for iniquity.
xxxix. 6, 1.176. There is no one like to Thee.
» 18, 1% 29. My iniquities have overtaken me.
xli. 1, 1. 438; 1. 66, 262. As-the hart panteth after the fountains of
water.
» 8, 1%. 857. My soul has thirsted after the strong living God.
» 8, 1. 290. Deep calleth on deep.
xliii. 23, m. 299. Arise, why sleepest thou.
xliv. 10, m. 162, 302. The queen stood on Thy right hand.
xly. 6, m. 256. The stream of the river maketh the city of God joyful.
» 11, 1.114, 290. Be still, and see that I am God.
xlviii. 17, 1. 245, 253. Be not thou afraid when a man shall be made
rich.
xlix. 11, m. 126. With Me is the beauty of the field.
» 16, 1. 318. Why dost thou declare my justice.
L 12, 1. 409. Create a clean heart in me, O God.
» 19, 1. 369. A sacrifice to God is an afflicted spirit.
liii, 5,1. 33. The mighty have sought after my soul.
lvii. 5, 1. 263. The deaf asp that stoppeth her ears.
» 9, % 380. Fire hath fallen upon them, and they have not seen
the sun.
» 10, 1 31. Before your thorns could know the briar.
lviii, 5, 1. 438, Without iniquity have I run.
» 10, =. 87, 240, 407; m. 153. I will keep my strength to Thee.
» 16, % 24. They shall suffer hunger like dogs.
Ixi. 2, 1m. 149. Shall not my soul be subject to God.
» Il, 1. 244, 264; 0.31. If riches abound set not your heart upon
them.
Ixii. 2, 1 407; 0.91. For Thee my soul hath thirsted.
» od 1 200, 363. In a desert land.
lxiii. 7, 8, 1. 290. Man shall come to a deep heart, and God shall be
exalted.

PASSAGES FROM HOLY SCRIPTURE. 445

= = oy <a ©
j=

=
=r

446 INDEX TO

PSALMS—vcontinued.
Ch. Ver. Vol. Page

Ixvii. 10, 1. 484, Thou didst send Thine inheritance a free rain.
» 14,0. 63. Yeshall be as a dove.
» 16,u.189. The mountain of God is a rich mountain.
» 84, 1.199, 317; 0.79. He will give to His voice the voice of power.
Ixviii. 2, 1.387; u.112. Save me, O God.
lxx. 20, mn. 248. Thou hast multiplied Thy magnificence.
Ixxi. 8, 1.138. He shall rule from sea to sea.
» 12, 138. He shall deliver the poor from the mighty.
lxxii. 8, 1.219. They have thought and spoken wickedness,
» 21,0. 22,143. My heart hath been inflamed.
» 22, 1 79, 356, 394. Iam brought to nothing and I knew not.
» 7, 1. 251. They have passed into the affection of the heart.
xxvi. 3, 1.367. My soul refused to be comforted.
» 6,u. 250. I had in my mind the eternal years.
» 14, 1 82. Thy way, O God, is in the holy place.
» 19, 1.480. Thy lightnings enlightened the world.
xxvii. 30, 1 19. He slew the fat ones among them.
31, 1. 150. As yet the meat was in their mouth.
Ixxxiii. 2,1. 437; m. 263. My soul longeth and fainteth for the courts of the
Lord.
8, m1. 212, 222, 234. My heart and my flesh have rejoiced in the
living God.
» 4,1. 183. The sparrow hath found herself a house,
» 6, 1.481. Blessed is the man whose help is from Thee.
Ixxxiv. 9, 1. 352; m. 270. He will speak peace unto His people.
Ixxxy. 8, 1. 82, 228. There is none among the gods like unto Thee, O
Lord.
lxxxvii, 6, 1 385. Like the slain sleeping in the sepulchres.
» 9, 1. 385. Thou hast put away my acquaintance far from me.
» 16, 1% 13. Iam poor and in labours from my youth.
Ixxxix. 4, u. 232. A thousand years in Thy sight are as yesterday.
» 9,1. 231. Our years shall be considered as a spider.
xevi. 2, 1. 382; 0.67. Clouds and darkness are round about Him.
ci. 8, 1.110; m 85. Iam become as a sparrow on the housetop.
», 27, 1. 258. They shall perish, but Thou remainest.
cii. 5, 1.416. Thy youth shall be renewed like the eagle’s.
ciii. 32, mu. 241. He looketh upon the earth and maketh it tremble.
civ. 4, 1. 434. Seek ye the Lord.
evi. 10, u. 259. Sitting in darkness and the shadow of death.
exi. 1, 1. 435. Blessed is the man that feareth the Lord.
exii. 7, 1. 362. Lifting up the poor out of the dunghill,
exiii. 8, 1 14. Let them that make them become like unto them.
exv. 15, m. 59, 230. Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His
saints.
exvii. 12, 1 27. They surrounded me like bees.
32, 1. 438; um. 133. I have run the way of Thy commandments.

”

exxxvii. 6, 1. 82.

The cords of my sins have encompassed me.
My soul hath fainted for Thy salvation.

. Iopened my mouth and panted.

Thy word is a vehement fire.

. He shall neither slumber nor sleep that keepeth Israel.

As the eyes of the handmaid.
Unless the Lord build the house.
The Lord is high and looketh on the low.

exxxviii. 11, 1. 60, 227; m. 209, Night shall be my light in my pleasures.

» 12, 1. 390;

exlii. 7, 1 434.
exliv. 16,0. 38.
» 18, t 314.

m. 67, 248. The darkness and the light are alike to
Thee.

My spirit hath fainted away.

Thou openest Thy hand.

The Lord is nigh unto all them that call upon Him.

exlvii. 17, 1. 127, 374. He sendeth His crystals like morsels.

ii, 4,0. 54.
iv. 23, m. 18.
Wee BRT.
» 16, 1. 298.
» <2 6. 17.

PROVERBS,

If thou shalt seek her as money.
With all watchfulness keep thy heart.
O ye men, to you I call.

By me kings reign.

With me are riches and glory.

» 81, m. 100, 127,223. My delights were to be with the children of

ix. 10, 1. 181.
x. 24, 1 141.
xv. 15, m. 116.
xvi. 1, m. 275.
oo 9 m 276.
xviii. 12, 1. 432.
xxiii. 31, 1. 262.
xxiv. 16, 1 40.
xxv. 27, 1. 300.
xxvii. 19, 1. 181.
xxx. 2, u. 142.
an 2 S86

men.

The knowledge of the holy is prudence.

To the just their desire shall be given.

A secure mind is like a continual feast.

It is the part of man to prepare the soul.

The Lord must direct his steps.

Before destruction the heart of a man is exalted.
Look not upon the wine when it is yellow.

A just man shall fall seven times and shall rise again.
He shall be overwhelmed by glory.

The hearts of men are laid open to the prudent.

I am the most foolish of men,

The horse. leech hath two daughters that say, Bring,

bring.
xxxi. 30, 1. 15, 257. Favour is deceitful and beauty is vain.

i. 14, 1. 245.
ii, 2, 1. 246,

ECCLESIASTES.

All is vanity and vexation of spirit.
Laughter I counted error.

INDEX TO

ECCLESIASTES—continued.

Ch. Ver. Vol. Page

ii.

2, 1,258. Why art thou vainly deceived.
10, 1. 32. Whatsoever my eyes desired I refused them not.
26, 1. 245. Riches a fruitless solicitude of the mind.

ili. 12, 1, 220. There is no better thing than to rejoice.
iv. 10, 1. 162. Woe to him that is alone.

1, 1. 145. God is in heaven, and thou upon earth; therefore let thy
words be few.
9, 1. 245. He that loveth riches shall reap no fruit from them.
12, 1. 245, 252. Riches kept to the hurt of the owner.
1, 1.187. What needeth a man to seek things that are above him.
3, 1. 247. It is better to go to the house of mourning than the house
of feasting.
4, 1.247. Anger is better than laughter.
5, 1. 246. The heart. of the wise is where there is mourning.
4, 1.199. The Word of God is full of power.
l,m. 14. Man knoweth not whether he be worthy of love or
hatred.
17, 1. 287. The words of the wise are heard in silence.
1, 1.279. Dying flies spoil the sweetness of the ointment.
4, 1m. 247. Care will make the greatest sins to cease.

ii. 7,1. 231. And the spirit return to God who gave it.

CANTICLE OF CANTICLES.

1, 1. 439, 451, Let Him kiss me with the kisses of His mouth.
3, 1. 133, 162, 266. Draw me, we will run after Thee.
4, 1.440; nm. 177, 251. Iam black but beautiful.
6, 1. 15. Shew me where Thou feedest.
10, n. 63. We will make thee chains of gold.
11, u. 303, While the king is at his repose.
11, mu. 99. My spikenard sent forth the odour thereof.
15, u. 127. Our bed is of flowers.
i, m. 126, 166. I am the flower of the field.
8, u. 181. Isat down under His shadow.
4,1. 94; 0. 140. He brought me into the cellar of wine.
5, 1. 165. Stay me with flowers.
6, u. 138. His left hand is under my head.
9,1. 21. My beloved is like a roe.
10, 1. 206, 229. Arise, make haste, my love.
1], m. 122, Winter is now past.
13, m. 193, 206. Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come.
14, 1. 79, 207. Let thy voice sound in my ears.
15, 1. 93. Catch us the little foxes.
16, u. 252. My Beloved to me, and I to Him.
1, 1. 434, 439, 454; 0. 30. In my bed by night I sought Him.

"ae CANTICLE OF CANTICLES—continued.
Ch, Ver. Vol. Page
iii, 2, 1.414; 0. 24. I will seek Him whom my soul loveth.
_ 4, 1, 434, 453; u. 30. When I had passed by them I found Him.

» 1439. I held Him and will not let Him go.
5, 1. 203; a. 117, 155, 279. Ladjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem,
that you stir not up.
6, u. 211. Who is she that goeth up by the desert.
» 1. 266. As a pillar of smoke of aromatical spices.
7, 1. 448; m. 131. Behold threescore valiant ones.
9, m. 130. King Solomon hath made himself a litter.
» 10, 1 444. The seat of gold, the going up of purple.
» 11, 7. 118, 163. Go forth, ye daughters of Sion, and see King
Solomon

iv. 1,1. 178, 179. Behold thou art fair, O my love, thy eyes are dove's

- eyes. .
> a 4,1. 131. Thy neck is as the tower of David.
. 6, 1. 188. I will go to the mountain of myrrh.

9, . 413; m. 42, 169, Thou hast wounded my heart. -
12, 1. 215; 9.117. My spouse is a garden enclosed. ;
145, 1. 256. A well of living waters.
16,0. 99. Blow through my garden.

1, 1. 121. Iam come into my garden.

2, 1.110. I sleep and my heart watcheth.

4, 1. 134. My Beloved put His hand through the keyhole.
6, 1. 140, 222. My soul melted when He spoke.

» 1 51. I sought Him and found Him not.

7,m. 24. They struck me and wounded me.

8, t. 414, 433; 42. Tell Him that I languish with love.
14, 1. 194. His belly is of ivory set with sapphires.

2, m. 160. I to my Beloved, and my Beloved to me.

3, mu. 178 Behold Thou art fair, my Beloved.

» 1, 165. Terrible as an army set in array.

4, 192, 351; m. 82. Turn away thy eyes from me.

9, 1. 115, Who is she that cometh forth as the morning.

» 1. 300, Terrible as an army set in array.
10, 1. 449. I went down into the garden of nuts,
1l, 1 110, 427; m 143. I knew not.

» 1 93. My soul troubled me for the chariots of Aminadab,
vii. 1, 166. How beautiful are thy steps in sbors.

» 2,1. 256, Thy belly is like a heap of wheat set with lilies.

» 13,m. 154, The new and the old I have kept for Thee.
wilh 1, 1. 417, 451; m. 122, 128, Who shall give Thee to me for my
brother.

» 2,12. 140,195. I will give Thee a cup of spiced wine.

» 5,1. 211, 228. Leaning upon her Beloved.

» 45m 124, Delicic aadeciae allen theo vp

vou 0 GG

Cee eee ea ee ee ee ee

-

450 a F INDEX TO

CANTICLE OF CANTICLES—continued.
Ch. Ver. Vol. Page
viii. 6, 1. 231, 234, 436; m. 65. Put Me as a seal upon thy heart.
» 9 %. 255, 257. The lamps thereof are fire and flames.
» »» I 66. Love is strong as death,
» 8,1. 107. Our sister is little.

WISDOM,

i. 5, 1. 219, 264. The Holy Ghost will withdraw Himself from
thoughts that are without understanding.
» 7,1. 88. The Spirit of the Lord hath filled the whole world,
iii. 6, 1. 387. As gold in the furnace He hath proved them.
iv. 10, m. 233. He pleased God, and was beloved.
» 12, 1. 249; 0.291. The bewitching of vanity obscureth good things.
vi. 13, m1. 30. Wisdom is glorious and never fadeth away.
vii. 11, 1. 403. All good things came to me with her.
» 21, 1. 180,210. Wisdom, which is the worker of all things, taught
me.
» 22, 1.274. Which nothing hindereth, beneficent.
» 23, 1.250. They all love bribes.
» 24, L396; m1. 226, 299. Wisdom reacheth everywhere by her purity.
» 26,1. 261. The brightness of eternal light.
27, u. 299. She reneweth all things.
viii. 1, m. 242. She reacheth from end to end mightily.
99 I. 122; 0.1. Wisdom ordereth all things sweetly.
ix. 15, t 374. m. 104, 210, 240. The corruptible body is a load upon the
soul.
xi. 17. 1.152. By what things a man sinneth, by the same also is he
tormented.
xvi. 20, 1. 19, 397; . 272. Having in it the sweetness of every taste.
» 21, 1. 360,397. Serving every man’s will.
» 26, 1. 327. Even then it was transformed into all things.
xviii. 14, 1. 453. While all things were in quiet silence.

ECCLESIASTICUS.

v. 5,0. 174. Be not without fear about sin forgiven.
ix. 14, x. 187. Forsake not an old friend.
» 15, 1. 136. A new friend is as new wine.
xi. 10, 1. 244. If thou be rich, thou shalt not be free from sin.
» 34, 1. 42. Of one spark cometh a great fire.
xiii. 1, 1. 33. He that toucheth pitch shall be defiled with it. .
xix 1, t 42. He that contemneth small things shall fall by little and
little.

a

bh
“rr te i

[ee err

—_— ss ~

Ch. Ver, Vol. Page
xxiii. 6, 1. 38. Take from me the greediness of the belly.
xxxiv. 9, 1.371. What doth he know that hath not been tried.
» 11,1. 246. He that hath not been tried, what doth he know.
xxxy. 21, 1. 109. The prayer of him that humbleth himself shall pierce the
clouds.
xli. 1,1. 60. O death, how bitter is the remembrance of thee.
» 8,0. 59. O death, thy sentence is welcome.
li, 29, 1.403, My entrails were troubled in seeking her.
» 26, 1. 410. 1. 289. He hath enlightened my ignorances.

ISAIAS.

ii. 2.1. 188. In the last days the mountain of the house of the Lord
shall be prepared.
» 8,1, 188, Let us go up to the mountain of the Lord.
iii. 12, 1. 269. They that call thee blessed deceive thee.
» 14, 1. 280. You have devoured the vineyard.
v. 20, 1, 223. Darkness for light, and light for darkness.
» 80, 1. 424. The light is darkened with the mist thereof.
vi. 2, 1. 73. Upon it stood the seraphim.
» 4, 1.115. The Lord showed His glory in the seraphim.
vii. 9, 1. 59. Ifyou will not believe you shall not understand.
viii. 6, 1. 286. The waters of Siloe that go with silence.
ix. 6,11. 298. The government is upon His shoulder.
» 20, 1, 26. He shall turn to the right hand and shall be hungry.
xi. 3, 1. 139. He shall be filled with the spirit of the fear of the Lord.
xix. 14, 1. 163, 370. The Lord hath mingled in the midst thereof the
spirit of giddiness.
xxiv. 16, 1. 230. From the ends of the earth we have heard praises.
» » U1 83. My secret to myself.
xxvi. 9, 1.408. My soul hath desired Thee in the night.
» 17, = 400. So are we become in Thy presence.
» 20,1. 17. Hide Thyself a little for a moment.
xxviii. 9, 1. 136, 362; 1.271. Whom shall He teach knowledge ?
» 19, 1. 362. Vexation alone shall make you understand.
xxix. 8, 1 26. Faint with thirst and his soul is empty.
xxx. 1, 2,1. 166. Woeto you. . . who walk to go down into Egypt.
xxxi, 9, 1. 226. His furnace in Jerusalem.
xl. 17, m1. 232. All nations are as if they had no being at all.
» 18, 1 83. To whom then have you likenetl God?
» 31, 1.438. They that hope in the Lord shall renew their strength.
xiii. 3, u. 178. I have given Egypt for thy atonement.
» 4,1. 176. Since thou becamest honourable in My eyes.
» 21,1. 296. This people have I formed for Myself.
xlv. 3,1. 18 I will give thee hidden treasures.

452 INDEX TO

ISATAS —continued.
Ch. Ver. Vol. Page

xlv. 15, m. 14. Verily Thou art a hidden God.
xlviii. 18, 1.216. Thy peace had been as a river,
ly. 1, 1. 28. All you that thirst come to the waters.
lvii. 20, 1. 26, The wicked are like the raging sea which cannot rest.
lviii, 10, 1. 362; 1m, 186. Then My light shall rise up in darkness.
lix. 10, 1. 33. We have stumbled at noon as if in darkness.
Ixiv. 4, 1. 63, 83, 229, 265, 398; mu. 199. Eye hath not seen, O God,
besides Thee.
Ixy. 24, 1. 54. Before they call I will hear.
Ixvi. 12, 1. 78. I will bring upon her a river of peace.
» » WU. 147. They shall caress you.

JEREMIAS.

i. 6, 1.428. Ah, Lord God!
» 1l, 1.115, A rod watching.
ii. 2, 1.4387. I have remembered thee.
»» 13, 1. 23. My people have done two evils.
» » I 251, They have forsaken me.
» 14,1. 101. Is Israel a bondman?
», 24, 1. 26. He snuffed up the wind of his love.
» 25, 1. 26. Keep thy foot from being bare.
iv. 10, 1.137. You shall have peace, and behiold the sword reacheth
even unto the soul.
» 23, 1. 14. I beheld the earth and lo, it was void ‘aa nothing.
viii. 15, 1.137. We looked for peace, and no good came.
xii. 5, mu. 246. If thou hast been wearied with running with footmen.
xx. 7, 1.146. Iam become a laughing-stock all the day.
xxiii. 21, 1. 286. I did not send prophets, yet they ran.
, 28, 1.201. What hath the chaff to do with the wheat.
» 29, 1.221. Are not My words as a fire.
» 982, 1. 286. They cause My people to err by their lying.
xxxi, 18, t. 371. 1m. 245. Thou hast chastised me.
xlv. 2, 1 183. God revealed to Jeremias the weakness of Baruch.
xlix. 16, 1. 281. Thy arrogancy hath deceived thee.

LAMENTATIONS OF JEREMIAS.

i. 13, 1. 409; m. 245. From above He hath sent fire into my bones.
iii, 1, 1 389. Iam the man that see my poverty.
» 8, 1. 393. He shutteth out my prayer.
» 9, 1.393. He hath shut up my ways with square stones,
» 17, 1. 400,401. My soul is repelled off from peace.
» 19,1. 27. Remember my poverty.

ss PASSAGES FROM HOLY SCRIPTURE. 453

LAMENTATIONS OF JEREMIAS—continued.
Ch. Ver. Vol. Page
iii. 20, 1. 220; m. 263. I will be mindful and remember.
» 29, 1, 393, 444. He shall put his mouth in the dust.
» 44, 1.393. Thou hast set a cloud before Thee,
» 47, t 146, Prophecy is become to us a fear.
iv. 1, 1.261. How is the gold become dim.
» 7, % 34. Her Nazarites were whiter than snow.
» 8, & 384. Their face is now made blacker than coals.

BARUCH.

iii. 11, m1. 101. Thou art grown old in a strange country.

» 22, 0. 242. It hath not been heard of in the land of Chanaan.
» 23, 1 84. The way of Wisdom they have not known.

» 31, 1.430. There is none that is able to know her ways.

EZECHIEL.

i, 5, 1.260. The likeness of four living creatures.
» 8, 1. 242. They had faces and wings on the four sides,
» 24,u. 79, 260. The voice of the Most High God.
ii. 1,1. 261. The vision of the likeness of the glory of the Lord.
viii. 10, 1. 35. All the idols of the house of Israel were painted on the
* walls,
» 14, 1 385. Behold women sat there mourning for Adonis.
» 16, 1 36. Five and twenty men having their backs to the temple of
the Lord.
xiv. 7, 1. 154. If he come to the prophet to enquire of me.
» 9, %. 164. And when the prophet shall err. . .
xvi. 6,1. 124. Thou wast cast out upon the face of the earth.
xviii. 22, 1.174. I will not remember all his iniquities.
xxiv. 10, 1. 387. Heap together the bones.
» 11, 387. Set it empty on burning coals.
xxxiy. 2, 0. 282. Woe to the shepherds of Israel.
xxxvi. 26, u. 257. I will pour upon you clean water.

DANIEL.

ix. 22, 1.196. I am now come forth to teach thee.

»» 27, 1.261, There shall be in the temple the abomination of desolation.
x. 11, 439. Daniel, stand upright.

» 16,0. 84, At the sight of thee my joints are loosed.

454

Ch. Ver. Vol. Page

ii. 14, « 215; m. 181, 270, 279. I will lead her into the wilderness.
» 20, 1. 377, 442; mu. 62. I will espouse thee to me in faith.
xiii. 9, 1. 420.

» 14, mu. 261.

1. 386.
r. 143.
1. 146,
I. 32.

ii. 4,
iii. 4,
iv. 2,
?? 1 1,

vii. 3, 1. 280,

i. 9, um. 174.

ii.
iii, 6, u. 241.

i, 12,0. 13.

ii, 8,0. 54,

i. 22, m. 257.
ii. 1, a. 257.

iv. 8, 1. 172.
v. 3, 1. 282.
‘, 8, L 440.

‘Yet forty days and Ninive shall be destroyed.

1, 1. 234, 363. m. 271.

INDEX TO

OSEE.

Perdition is thine own.
O death, I will be thy death.
JONAS,
Thou hast cast me forth unto the deep.

Therefore I went before to fiee unto Tharsis.
They know not how. to distinguish between their right
hand and their left.
MICHEAS.
The evil of their hands they call good.

NAHUM.
There shall not rise a double affliction.

HABACUC.
I will stand upon my watch.
The mountains are crushed in pieces.
SOPHONIAS.,
I will search Jerusalem with lamps.

ZACHARIAS.
He that toucheth you toucheth the apple of my eye.

"IL MACHABEES.

Jeremias commanded them to take the fire.
There was a great fire kindled.

8S, MATTHEW.
The devil showed our Lord all the kingdoms of the world.
Blessed are the poor in spirit.
Blessed are the clean in heart.

vy. 26,m. 13. Thou shalt not go out from thence till thou repay the last
vi. 2, 1.277, 278. Amen I say to you, they have received their
reward.
» %, & 278,447. Let not thy left hand know what thy right hand
. doth.

» 6, 1.316. When thou shalt pray, enter into thy chamber.

» » & 17. Pray to thy Father in secret.

» 7, 1.315. When ye pray, speak not much.

» 10,1. 229. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done.

» 24, L 207; mu. 158. No man can serve two masters.

» 383, 1.314, Seek first the kingdom of God and His justice.

vii. 3, 1. 329, Why seest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye.
» 6, 1% 24. Give not that which is holy to dogs.

» 13,0. 283. Enter ye in at the narrow gate.

» 14, % 74, 825, 345, 359. How narrow is the gate.

» » i 12. Strait is the way that leadeth to life.

» 22, 1. 164, 284. Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Thy name.
» 28, 1.164. I never knew you.
viii. 20, 1. 78. The Son of Man hath not where to lay His head.

x. 33, m. 158. He that shall deny Me before men.

. A man’s enemies shall be they of his own household.

Come to Me all you that labour and are burdened.
My yoke is sweet, and My burden light.

He that gathereth not with Me scattereth.

He that hath, to him shall be given.

» 22, 1 244. Thorns. . . the deceitfulness of riches.

» 31, 1. 239, The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed.

» 44,1. 17,149. The treasure hidden in a field.

» 58, 1.299. He wrought not many miracles there, because of their

unbelief.

xv. 8, 1. 303, 304. This people honoureth Me with their lips.

» 14, & 380,129. Ifthe blind lead the blind, both fall into the pit.

» 26, 1. 24. It is not good to take the bread of children.

xvi. 24, 1. 263. If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself.

» 25, 1. 344; 0.159. He that shall lose his life for My sake shall

find it.

» 26, 1. 245. What doth it profit a man if he gain the whole world.
xvii. 5, 1.167. This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.
xviii. 20, 1. 161. Where there are two or three gathered together in My

name,

xix. 23, 1.244. A rich man shall hardly enter into the Kingdom of

Heaven.

» 29, 1.256, 271. A hundredfold reward even in this life.

xxi. 9, 1. 303, The multitudes cried Hosanna to the Son of David.
xxii. 13, 1. 304. Cast him into the exterior darkness.

i
sh

Ch. Ver. Vol. Page
1. 277.
1. 246.

xxiii. 4,

»» 28, I.

xxvii. 46, 1.

i. 13, o.

», 35, 1. 259,
,, 52, 1.
ii. 25, m1.
iv. 24, 1. 299.
vii. 37, 1. 413.
Viii. 12, 1.

1. 329.

1 38.
I. 331.
r 94.
177.
r. 316.

79.

1. 289.

26.

78.
139.

282.

ix, 54, 1. 286.

x. 20, 1. 285,

» 42, m 154.

tap, Ora

315.

”

a £ de
9,1. 29.
26,1 95.

52, 1. 283.

. 20, 1. 246,

35, 1 38,
37, mu. 147.

INDEX TO

8. MATTHEW—continued.

All their works they do to be seen of men.

You go round about the sea and the land to make one
proselyte.

Blind guides, who strain out a gnat and swallow a
camel.

Woe unto them that are with child.

Give us of your oil. :

Because thou hast been faithful over a few things.

Take ye away the talent from him.

Nevertheless not as I will, but as Thou wilt.

My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken Me.

Go tell My brethren that they go into Galilee.

S. MARK.

If any man will follow Me, let him deny himself.
Whosoever will save his life shall lose it.

Do not forbid him.

Take no thought beforehand what you shall speak.

8S. LUKE.

Fear not, Zachary, for thy prayer is heard.

The power of the Most High shall overshadow thee.

He hath exalted the humble.

A just man full of fear.

No prophet is accepted in his own country.

Behold a woman that was in the city, a sinner.

They by the wayside are they that hear.

Lord, wilt Thou that we command fire to come down from
heaven.

290. Rejoice not in this, that spirits are subject unto
you.

One thing is necessary.

Teach us to pray.

Friend, lend me three loaves.

Seek and you shall find.

He taketh with him seven other spirits more wicked than
himself.

Woe to you lawyers.
256. Thou fool, this night do they require thy soul of
thee.
Let your loins be girt. ?

He will gird himself and make them sit down to
meat.

xiv. 11, 1. 431. Every one that exalteth himself shall be humbled.
» 33, 1% 19, 72,222. Every one of you that doth not renounce all.
xv. 5,m. 118, When he hath found it, lay it on his shoulders re-

Joicing.
» 9,1. 118. Rejoice with me.
xvi. 8, 1. 251. The children of this world are wiser in their generation,
than the children of light.
» 10, 1 253. He that is faithful in that which is least.
» 19, 1. 268. The rich man feasted sumptuously every day.
xvii. 21, 1 307; m. 16. The kingdom of God is within you.
xviii. 1, 1 316. We ought always to pray and not to faint.
» 11, 1 225, 277, 329. O God, I give Thee thanks that I am not as the
rest of men.
xix. 41, 1. 303. Christ wept over Jerusalem.
xxii. 8,1. 98. Go and prepare for us the pasch.
» 26, % 16. He that is greater among you, let him become as the

younger.
xxiv. 6, 1 289. He is not here, but is risen.
» 21, 139. We hoped that it was He who should have redeemed
Israel.
» 25, 1. 139. O foolish, and slow of heart.
» 26, 1. 289. Ought not Christ to have suffered these things.

8. JOHN.

i. 3, 1.297. Without Him was made nothing.

» 4,1. 76. In Him was life.

a » 5, %. 14,412. The light shineth in darkness and the darkness did

=. not comprehend it.

» 12, 1. 67;.m. 204. He gave them power to be made the sons of
God.

» 18, 1 67. Born not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh . . . but of
God.

» 16, 1. 172, 176. Grace for grace.

» 18, 1, 82, 229. No man hath seen God at any time.

» » % 14 The only begotten Son who is in the bosom of the
Father.

ii, 3,. 28. They have no wine.

iii. 6, 1. 68. Unless a man be born again of water and of the Holy
Ghost.

» 6, t, 272,338. That which is born of the flesh is flesh.

iv. 14, m. 62, 114, 256. A fountain of water springing up into life ever-

n oe) . Diba ane 2st -
ot ape eee

lasting.
»» 28, 1. 306. The true adorers shall adore the Father in spirit and in
truth.

458

Ch. Ver. Vol. Page
iv. 24, 1. 307.
9) 28, 1 222.
» 34, 1% 48,
» 48, 1. 289.
vi. 64, 1. 231.
Se BE

» 67, 1. 221.
» 69, 1. 222,
vii, 38, 1m. 219.
» 39,11 63.

ix. 39, 1. 65.
eS aa Fe
xi. 3,1. 28.
» 900, L139.

INDEX TO

8. JOHN—continued.

God must be adored in spirit and in truth.

The woman left her waterpot.

My meat is to do the will of Him that sent me.

Unless you see signs and wonders you believe not.

The flesh profiteth nothing.

The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and
life.

Many of His disciples went back.

Thou hast the words of eternal life.

Rivers of living water.

The spirit which they should receive who believed in
Him.

For judgment I am come into this world.

I am the door.

Behold he whom Thou lovest is sick.

It is expedient for you that one man should die for the ;

people.

When Jesus was glorified then they remembered that these
things were written of Him.

An angel spoke to Him.

And I, if I be lifted up from the earth.

In My Father’s house there are many mansions.

I am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life.

You shall know Him. -

He that loveth Me shall be loved of My Father.

We will come to Him and make our abode with Him.

He will teach you all things.

You shall ask whatever you will and it shall be done unto
you. :

I have called you friends.

In that day you shall not ask Me anything.

Now this is eternal life, that they may know Thee.

294, All My things are Thine, and Thine are Mine.

Not for them only do I pray.

That they may see My glory.

That the love wherewith Thou hast loved Me may be in
them.

It is consummated.

They have taken away the Lord out of the sepulchre,

The two disciples came to see the sepulchre.

When she had thus said she turned herself back.

414; 1.51. If thou hast carried Him away, tell me where
thou hast laid Him.

Peace be unto you.

Blessed are they that have not seen and have be-
lieved.

- PASSAGES FROM HOLY SCRIPTURE. 459
THE ACTS.
Ch. Ver. Vol. Page
i. 6, 1.139. Lond, wilt Thou at this time restore again the kingdom to

Israel.
ii, 2,1. 78. A sound as of a mighty wind.
iv. 29, 1. 288. Grant unto Thy servants that with all confidence they
; ‘may speak Thy word.
vii. 32, 1. 83, 488. Moses durst not behold.
viii. 20, 1.252 Because thou hast thought that the gift of God may be
purchased with money.
xiii, 27, 1. 138. The Jews fulfilled the prophecies when they put the Lord
to death.
» 46, 1 80. To you it behoveth us first to speak the word of
God.
xiv. 21, 1. 244. Through many tribulations we must enter into the kingdom
of God.

xvii. 28, 1. 46, 297. In Him we live, and move, and are.

» 29, 1 99. We must not suppose the Divinity to be like unto
gold.

xix. 15, 1 318. Jesus I know, and Paul I know; but who are you.

xxii. 11, 1. 424. I did not see for the brightness of that light.

ROMANS.
i. 20,1. 34. For the invisible things of Him are clearly seen.
» 22, & 16. Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools.
» 28, 1. 253. God delivered them up to a reprobate sense.
ii. 21, 1.318. Thou therefore that teachest another teachest not thy-

self.
viii, 13, 1. 34, 249. If by the spirit you mortify the deeds of the
flesh.

» 14, 1. 213; 1. 250. Whosoever are led by the Spirit of God are the
sons of God.

» 23,0. 21. We ourselves groan within ourselves.

» 24, 1. 72, 444. Hope that is seen is not hope.

» 26,0. 1, The Spirit asketh for us with unspeakable groanings.

x. 17, 1. 59, 186, 289. Faith cometh by hearing.

xi. 23, u. 189. How incomprehensible are His judgments.

xii. 2, 1. 379. Be reformed in the newness of your mind.

» 4, 1.195. Not to be more wise than it behoveth to be wise.

xiii, 1, 1. 122. Those that are, are ordained of God.

L CORINTHIANS.

ii. 1, 1.319. And I, brethren, when I came to you.

» 2, 4 158. I judged not myself to know anything among you, but
Jesus Christ and Him crucified.

460

INDEX TO

I, CORINTHIANS—continued.
Ch. Ver. Vol. Page

ii. 9, 1. 63, 83, 229, 265, 398; 1.199. Eye hath not seen nor ear
heard.
» 10, 1. 181; mu. 395, 237. The Spirit searcheth all things.
» 14, 1. 140, 270; 1. 148, 278, 291. The sensual man perceiveth not
the things that are of the Spirit.
» 15, 1. 181; m. 237. The spiritual man judgeth all things,
iii, 1, 2,1. 128. As little ones in Christ, I gave you milk to drink, not
meat,
» 16, 1. 307. Know you not that you are the temple of God.
» 18, % 16. Ifany man among you seem to be wise in this world, let
him become a fool.
» 19, 1.16; m. 142. The wisdom of this world is foolishness with God.
vi. 17, 1. 120, 209. He who is joined to the Lord is one spirit.
vii. 27, 1. 247. Art thou loosed from a wife ? seek not a wife.
» 29, 1. 44, 247. This therefore I say, brethren, the time is short.
ix, 22, mu. 282. I became all things to all men.
x. 4,1. 192. This rock is Christ.
xii. 7, 1.283. The manifestation of the Spirit is given to every man
unto profit.
8, 1.180. Diversity of spiritual gifts.
» 9, % 283. Faith, and the grace of healing.
» 10, 1.179. The discerning of spirits.
xiii. 1, 1.284. IfI speak with the tongues of men and of angels.
2,u. 72. And have not charity, I am nothing.
4,1. 73. Charity is patient.
5, u. 228. Seeketh not her own.
» 6, 1. 844. Rejoiceth with the truth.
7, 1.438. Charity believeth all things.
10, 1. 86; m. 18,64. When that which is perfect is come, that which
is in part shall be done away.
11, 1. 125, 378. When I became a manI put away the things of a
child.
» 12, u. 197. Now I know in part.
xy. 54. 1. 251. Death is swallowed up in victory.

II. CORINTHIANS.

i. 7, 1. 248, As you are partakers of the sufferings.
iii. 6, 1.136. The letter killeth, but the Spirit quickeneth.
iv. 17, 1.272. An eternal weight of glory.
vy. 1, 1. 230, 249. We have a building of God.
» 4 u. 58. We would not be unclothed, but clothed upon.
vi. 10. 1. 255, 396. As having nothing, and possessing all things.
» 14. 1. 14. What fellowship hath light with darkness?
» 16,1. 16. You are the temple of the living God.
xi, 14, 1 93, 300. Satan transformeth himself into an angel of light.

OL

ones
PASSAGES FROM HOLY SCRIPTURE. 461

II. CORINTHIANS—continued.
Ch. Ver. Vol. Page

xii. 2, 1.170. Whether in the body, I know not.

» 8,4. 70. Whether in the body, or out of the body, I cannot tell.

» 4, & 176; 1, 82, 105, 106. Secret words which it is not granted to
man to utter.

» 9 © 47; 1. 161, 246. Virtue is made perfect in infirmity.

GALATIANS.

i, 8, 1. 159, 186. Though we or an angel from heaven preach to
you.

ii, 2, 1, 162, Lest I should run, or had run in vain,

» 14, 1.164. When I saw that they walked not uprightly.

» 20, 1m. 665, 121, 251. I live now, not I, but Christ liveth in me.

iv. 6, 1, 203, God hath sent the spirit of His Son into your hearts,

f v. 17, 1. 270; 1. 33,92. The flesh lusteth against the spirit.

vi. 17, u. 241. I bear the marks of the Lord Jesus in my body.

4 EPHESIANS.

q ii. 15, m. 123. Making void the law of commandments.

> iii. 17, u. 190, Being rooted and founded in charity.

a iv. 22, m. 249. Put off according to former conversation the old man.
. » 24. 1. 379,416. Put on the new man.

vi. 11, u. 33, Put now on the armour of God.

PHILIPPIANS.

i. 21, u. 159. To die is gain.

» 23,0. 58. Having a desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ.

iii. 20, 1. 445. Our conversation is in heaven.

iv. 7, 1.400; mu. 116. The peace of God which surpasseth all under-
standing.

COLOSSIANS.

ii, 3, 1. 158; m2. 27, 193. In whom are hid all the treasures of wixdom
and knowledge.
» 9, 1. 168, In Him dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead cor-

porally.
iii. 5. 1.251. Avarice, the service of idols.
» 14,m. 72, 149, 164. Have charity, which is the bond of perfection.
I. THESSALONIANS.

v. 8, 1.443. For a helmet, the hope of salvation.
» 19, 1.231. Extinguish not the Spirit.

462

INDEX TO

HEBREWS.

Ch. Ver. Vol. Page

i.
”

1, 1.157. God in these days hath spoken to us by His Son.
8,1. 37,61, 242. Who being the brightness of His glory.

», m1. 298. Upholding all things by the word of His power
1, 1 71,222. Faith is the substance of things to be hoped for.
6, 1.442. Without Faith it is impossible to please God.

» I. 62,85. He that cometh to God must believe that He is.

S. JAMES.
17, ii, 162, 275, Every perfect gift is from above.

», 26, 1. 310. If any man think himself to be religious.

ii.

i.
iv.
v.

i.

”

iii.

_
-

-
~

iii.

”

x.
xii.

20, 1. 240. Faith without works is dead.

I, §. PETER.
12, n. 263. On whom the angels desire to look.
18, m. 12. The just man shall scarcely be saved.
9. 1,442. Whom resist, stedfast in the faith.

Il. 8S, PETER.
2. m. 205. Grace to you and peace.
19. 1. 186. We have the more firm prophetical word.
-I. 8. JOHN.
2, 1.440. When He shall appear, we shall be like Him.

. 10, m. 169. Not as though we had loved God.

18, u. 59, 130. Perfect charity casteth out fear.

APOCALYPSE.

i. 7,1. 200. I will give to eat of the tree of life.

10, m. 200. Be thou faithful unto death.
17, m. 200, 244. To him that overcometh I will give the hidden
manna, and .. . a white counter,
26,1. 200. I will give him power over the nations.
5, m1. 200. He that shall overcome, shall be clothed in white gar-
ments.
8, 1. 347. Behold I have given before thee an opened door.
12. m. 200. I will make him a pillar in the temple of my God.
20. 1. 88. Behold I stand at the gate and knock.
21, 1. 200. To him that shall overcome, I will give to sit in My
throne.
9,1. 28. Take the book and eat it up.
4. 1. 260. His tail drew the third part of the stars of heaven.

rs A ln 94. Pci Otesis eine soveghiai

» 7, % 94, It was given unto him to make war with the saints.

o- 2,m. 79,87. The voice of harpers, harping on their harps.
xvii. 3, 1 261. I saw a woman sitting on a scarlet coloured beast. :

mika ae As much as she et bat
ares torment.

xxi, 23, m. 53, And the city hath no need of the sun.

xxii 1, u. 138. A river of water of life.

are Fa es EE St
atte >) = egt a! hee ge ee
AINE. 6 72) 2 Raiheh y Bente a
ed | i
i Paes >
“«
‘i

ea ee ener >». , i

= gts e.

re. — ¢ nt

oo a
INDEX.

, AES

ABR BEG

! BRAHAM, prophecy to, i. 134; ex- Appeiine f disorderly, maxims regarding,

3 ample of, n regard to er, 311,

; 315; his vision of a lamp, ii) 265

—s Act, moral, knowledge and consent neces-
oy Ang i. 40; determined by motive,

ee ees enew m0 ae, Mi 243
Adversity.

_ Affections, Pit ign impede the Divine
: union, i. 18; darken the soul, 29;

‘ by God, 19; all should be
4 ished, 39

— spiritual, test of, what, i. 337
All, the, which is God, how to guin it,
, 50

. Altar of God, to be pure, i. 22

; Aminadab, in to mean Satan,
1,449; his chariots, the assaults of the

enlightened more than the, 411; can-
ad netrate the soul direetly, 451;
t between the and evil,
449; their oral o in regard
to men, ii. 26; the flowers of Para-
dise, 36; how they serve God, 43;
free from sensible emotions, 113; can
never comprehend God, 77; invoca-
tion of the, 91; their desire to look
' pening se maxims
Anger, imperfections of, i. 338
S Annihilation, spiritual what, i, 397; ii.

voice of God heard by the, ii.
the sensitive, compared to the
ari, Rn ge pager Bale gt

escape reformed in
: the Obscure Night, 378:

Prent yat purely spiritual, i, 167
Anidity, differs from lukewarmness, how,
i, 349; ens the will, 350;
fortitude i in, 366; God tries his ay
vants by, ii, 21; remedies for, 96;

Ark of the bosom of God, i ii. 75

Art, love for, not devotion, i. 299

Attributes of God seen by love, ii. 173;
God in His, 253

Augustine, S., quoted, i, 18, 363, 436;
n. 16, 36

Aurora, of obscure intelligence, ii. 85

Author, his submission to the Church,
i. 3; ii. 3, 217; his patteeti 217

Avarice, spiritual, im ons of, i.
333; maxims ii. 385

Aorakening of Godin the ou ii. 297

ANQUET, yay iritual, of love, ii. 89
Baptism, the first espousals of the
soul with Christ, ii. 124
Baruch, exile of the soul described by,
ii. 101
Basilisk, fable of the, ii. 57
Beast, the seven-headed, combat with,
i, 94
Beatitude, eternal, descriptions of, ii.
200, 202; of the soul, 255
Beauty, sense of, not devotion, i, 299;
created, may lead from God, 257;
the uncreated, God, 2458; of natural
virtue, 275; of nature aids devotion,
309; of the soul, ii. 98, 187; God's
gift, 175; in God, 295; of creatures
a reflection of God, 38; of God, desire
for the, stronger than death, 57
ers, in the spiritual life, their
method, i. 125; should reject visions,

466
BEG

why, 126; sensible devotion expedient
for, 305; conduct of the humble, 331
Beginners, imperfections of, as to spi-
ritual pride, 329; as to avarice, 333;
luxury, 335; anger, 338 ; gluttony, 339;
envy, 343; sloth, 344; compared to
new wine, ii. 136; directions for, 267
Bethlehem, water of, a type of i
ii. 66
Betrothal, spiritual, of the soul, ii. 89,
119
Blasphemy, spirit of, soul tried by the,
i. 370
Blessed, state of the, ii. 144; their joys
tasted by the perfect in this life, 203
Blessings of the spiritual night, i. 454 ;
of love for God, ii. 170, 226
Blindness, spiritual, caused by sin, i. 29;
differs from darkness, how, ii. 289
Bliss, found in union with God, ii. 126 ;
of Heaven, 191; described by David,
201; of the Divine touch, 243; the
soul’s capacity for, 263 ; of faith, i. 55;
fountain of, within the soul, ii. 114
Boethius, quoted in regard to the morti-
fication of the passions, i. 242
Breathing of God in the soul, ii. 304
Breviary, Roman, quoted, i. 311; ii. 236
Bride of Christ, the perfect soul, ii. 118;
song of the, 75; makes three petitions,
186; celebrates the beauty of her
Beloved, 126

VARY, Mount, tree of, the cross,

ii. 123
Carmel, Mount, ascent of, i. 1, 7, 227,
244, 270; its summit, how reached,

50

Centre of the soul, God, ii. 224

Ceremonies, superstition in, i. 312; the
Churck our guide in, 316

Charity, the theological virtue, purifies
the will, i. 72; perfects the soul,
ii. 129; true character of, 73; may
always increase, 114; completes the
being and knowledge of the soul, 72 ;
preserves virtues, 130; the soul of
virtue, i. 275, 284; universal, ob-
tained by self-denial, 262; not puffed
up, 435; shields the soul from the
flesh, 444; purple robe of, 445; in-
fused by God, ii. 132; maxims relat-
ing to, 353

Christ. See Jesus

Christians, in what respect different
from Jews, i. 156

INDEX.

cou

Church, Catholic, author's submission
to the, i. 3; ii. 8, 217; the Bride of
Christ, 187; knowledge of God through
the, i. 159; the only security against
spiritual self-deception, 162; our guide
in ceremonies, 315

Churches, neatness in, a just ground of

PB dees, > 305 A
mmunion, holy, doctrine of, t
by Christ, ii. 329 ; self-love rie
quent, i. 341; aridity in, 342

Confessions, artful, i. 330

Confessors, advice to, i. 5, 6; time of,
wasted by penitents, how, 231. See
Director

Confidence in God, necessity of, i. 354;
its effects, ii. 169

Consciousness, not a test of spiritual

Bod 803 ii. 287; of the presence of
G 303 P

Consecration, Divine, of particular
places, i. 311

Contemplation, consists in the powers of
the soul being fixed upon God, i. 107 ;
renders the soul unconscious of
ticular thoughts, time, and place, 108;
makes the will active in lors) 111;
when it should take the place of me-
ditation, 102; the end of prayer, 99;
a Divine communication, 1i. 71; ren-
ders the soul like a sparrow, 86; second
state of oe progress, 119 ; differs
from meditation, and should be differ-
ently treated, 268; souls in, led by
God, 286; an infusion of God, i. 356;
the secret wisdom of God, 430; ob-
scure, 386; secure, 424; uil, 355;
secret, 427 ; beyond expression, 428 ;
beginning of, painful, 401; begins in
aridity, 351; obtained in the Sensitive
Night, 360; a mystical ladder of ten
steps, 431-3; aided by reflection on
the Life and Passion of Christ, 356;
— reached by all spiritual persons,
353

Contemplative life, objection of the
world to, ii. 157 ; the part chosen
Mary better than that of Martha, 154

Contemplatives or Proficients, state of,
the second degree of perfection, i. 327 ;
difficulties of, with their directors, 428

— interior, of the soul with God,
ii. 10

Cordova, foundation of Carmelite Mo- —
nastery in, ii. 322

Coun ical, i. 19

— Unevangelical, ii. 283

_ Gomrage, necessary for perfection, i. 4,
«978, 426; ii. 121; in suffering, 246
_ Opeation, the work of God directly, ii.
85; celestial and terrestrial, beauty

_ _ of, 36; model of, the Son of God, 37
© latin naptanig reamed

Creatures, in themselves are nothing, i.
14; none in substance like to God,
81; knowledge
feet soul, 179; when to be banished
from memory, 214; renunciation of,
necessary for perfection, ii. 17, 23; the
traces of the of God, 37;
beauty of, increased by the Incarna-
tion, 38; cannot give rest to the soul,
49; witnesses for God, 86; rational,

Le

Tis
2
6
:

i

2

a

2

SF
u
l
E
a

#88
5
:

“INDEX.

467

DOV

perfect love, i. 178 ; ii. 228 ; of death,
231; disposes for union, 265; pro-
duces belief, 291

ires, natural, transformed in Divine
love, ii. 22; why called fores,. 91;
first movements of, involuntary and

harmless, 39
Desires, unruly, their negative evil, i. 23 ;
- their five positive evils, 25; their
different degrees, 45; must be morti-

fied, 39, 50
Detachment, in sense and spirit, neces-
sary, i. 77; ii. 94; from creatures,
required for union with God, i. 21 ; ii.
31; from all things, 211; from all
temporal goods, 309; i. 253; from
ead: natural, 263; sensible, 269;
moral, 281; supernatural, 291; spi-
ritual, 293; mecessary, even from
Divine favours, 92, 119; means of
union with God, 51, 69; ii. 53; God
to the soul when detached,
270; may accompany possession, i,
13; fruit of openness with spiritual
_ Director, 165; produces peace, 231;

hope, 222
il, the. See Satan

Devotion, external means of, i. 294;
frivolity in, 295 ; not mere love of art
or sense of the beautiful, 299; true
and real must be spiritual, 301; in-
ward, 307; from the heart, 334; all
hours suitable for, 316; sensible, ex-
ient for beginners, 305; seems dead

in ess of spirit, ii. 96

Dionpaien &., ‘ih entumalation a ‘ray
of darkness,’ why, i. 84, 381; ii. 82

Directors, spiritual, advice to, i. 5, 6,
166 ; ii. 271; cautions to, 280, 366-8 ;
how they are to treat visions, i, 129,
130; openness with, n , 166;
im nity of penitents with, 341;
difficulties of contemplatives with,
428; necessary qualifications for, ii.
267; duties of, to penitents, 282;
inexperienced compared to a rough
blacksmith, 273; mistakes of inex-
pasate. 278; their t responsi-

ility, 280; mutual jealousy of, a

piSSpation ke pilgrimages, 1. 298
issipation in pilgrimages, i.

Distretions in prayer, remedy for, i.
215; pain of, 393

Doctors of the Church, luminous crown
of, ii. 163

Dove, the perfect soul compared to the,
ii. 73, 179, 180 ,

468

DRY

Dryness, spiritual. See Aridity
Duty, the soul awakened by motives of,
ii. 12

} CSTASIES, cause of, what, i. 375;
their cause and effects, ii. 68;
physical pain of, 69; highest per-
fection, free from, why, 70; treated
by S. Teresa, 70
Elias, the prophet, his conditional pro-
phecy against Achab, i. 143 ; essential
vision of God by, 170; his vision on
Mt. Horeb, 311; ii. 81
Eliphaz, the Themanite, his vision by
night, ii. 83
Eliseus, the Prophet, his infused know-
ledge, i. 182
End of our creation, to love God, ii. 76,
155
Enemies of the soul, overcome, i. 445;
the three spiritual, the world, the
flesh, and the devil, defence against,
i. 441; cautions respecting, ii. 308—
313
Envy, spiritual, imperfections of, i. 343
Error, in expression and deduction, re-
lating to Divine truths, i. 190
Espousals of the soul with the Word of
God, i. 453; day of the, ii. 74; first,
baptism ; second, perfection, 124
Essence, Divine, clear conception of, in
this life impossible, ii. 14, 84; God
present to all men by, 55
Esther, illustration from life of, ii. 301
Eternity shines through the web of life,
ii, 231
Experience, required in spiritual direc-
tors, ii. 267
Eyes, the Divine, what, ii. 68; glance
of, 69
Ezechiel, the Prophet, his vision of the
deformity of sin, i. 35; speaks of the
voice of God, ii. 79; illustration from,
125; his vision of the four living
creatures, 260

aa t natural, why obscured
by God, i. 421; in themselves in-
capable of perfect union with God,
421; called caverns, why, ii. 288

Faith, the theological virtue, called a
certain and obscure habit of the soul,
i. 57; an excess of light, 58, 60 ; con-
tains the light of God, 87 ; the greatest
light of the Holy Ghost, 191; its seat

INDEX.

FRI

the a middle and darkest
of the cure Night, why, 56;

f 6r; surpasses all tel 4
and knowledge, i. 58; ii. 19; the
roximate means of union with God

in this life, i. 54, 61, 84-7; ii. 62;
why called crystal, 62; happiness of,
i, 55; corresponds to vision in Hea-
ven, ii. 19; more blessed than sight,
i. 289; better than visions, 120;
eometh by hearing, 59; dispositions
for, 61; compared to a white inner
ss 441; the breastplate of de-
ence against the devil, 441; how
injured, 131; how lost, 90; maxims

ing, ii. 347-9

Faith, the Catholic, always the same, i.

186 ; its harmony with reason, 163;
— to be guided by the rule of, ii.
4

Fear, sensitive, an occasion of spiritual
luxury, i. 337; causes of, in spiritual
persons, ii. 112; soul awakened by
motives of, 12

— passion of, its reformation, i. 241;
cast out by perfect love, ii. 116, 130

— of God, holy, found in suffering, i.
366; filial, proceeds from perfect love,
ii. 139; maxims regarding, 352°

Figurative language, fitness of for spiri-
tual things, ii. 1

Fire, natural, illustrates the purification
of the soul by suffering, i. 402; of
Divine love, sweet, 439; blissful and
consuming, ii. 209

Flesh, the, to be mortified, i. 64; sting
of, 370; deliverance from, 369; a
bridle to the spirit, ii. 240; enemy of
the spirit, 33; returns to combat with
the spirit, 92; means of overcoming,
307, 313; the spirit regardless of, 1.
436; at peace with the spirit; when,
452; maxims regarding, ii. 361

Flowers, of Paradise, angels and saints,
il. 36

Fortitude, a fruit of spiritual suffering,
i, 366; maxims regarding, ii. 377

Founders of religious orders, hig
graces given to the, ii. 239

Francis, 8., of Assisi, saying of, ii. 76;

— of, 240

Freedom of the soul not violated by
God, ii. 224

Friend, a new, compared to new wine,
ii. 135; an old one much esteemed by
God, 137 age

Friendships, spiritual, test of, i. 337

powers —

a4

ARGANTUS, Mount, consecrated by

God: to His aervien, 1. 311

— of soul, i. 264; the humble man
begins with, 334
Gethsemani, prayer i in the Garden of,
i. 31
Giddiness, spirit of, what, i. 153, 370
Glory of the perfect soul, ii. 237
Gluttony, spiritual, what, i. 76; blind-
ness a by, 227; imperfections of,
339
GOD, in Himself, is Infinite Being, i.
16; the First Fair, 15; the Unereated
Beanty, 268; ii. 38; the Supreme
Good, i. 15; Wisdom and Power, 16;
Happiness, Riches, and Honour, 17;
is the All, 50; ii. 76; is all His at-
tributes, 253; infinitely above and
ere ens. can never
comprehended by angels or men,
ii, 77 ; the undiscovered country, 77 ;
our knowledge of, partial, 40 ; cannot
be known by forms or similitudes, i.
117; not an object of sensitive per-
265; cannot be seen in this
82; His attributes seen _
i 173; seen in His works, 34;
Tic adioeh artetaree, Al ; itis aulen-
mtu, His, twond
— as presence,
substantial and moral, i. 66 ; in His

loves (1) Himself, (2
sisted bo Hi i i
~“Bleened Trinity, the Holy Ghost os
>, as
and
aoa, eek cf the Wines Pee
the soul, 235

GoD
GOD, pres mammappbar ar ape 2
pernatural: His and works above

man, i. 133, 145: ow views of, 229;
cannot be judged by the sensual man,
140; observes the natural order He
has made, 123, 148; rewards natural
virtue, 274; His will sometimes con-
ditional, 143; condescends to human
weakness, 147; sometimes eres
yer in anger, 147 ; the architect
the supernatural building, ii. 275;
sometimes permits Satan to afilict the
soul, 450
— as the End of man, i. 24; His infi-
nite love and tenderness, ii. 146;
His generosity, 177; invites all to
Himself, i. 28; seeks the soul, ii,
266 ; loves the repose of the soul in
Him, 279; requires an undiviled
love, i. 22, 43; to be loved above all
things, ii. 20, 164; visits the soul
detached from creatures, 53: pre-
sent to the soul in three ways, 55;
the soul’s capacity for, i. 265; in a
certain sense infinite, ii. 263; the
soul a living temple for, i. 307 ; the
soul in search of, 434; longings of
the soul for, 357; the soul panting
after, 437 ; nothing but God can sa-
i the soul, 561; ii 39, 51, 181;
the soul's strength and sweetness,
122; its centre, 224; His footsteps,
what, 132; His will our temporal
= eternal huppiness, i, 314; the
= consolation in suffering, ‘391;
the twofold Life of the soul, ii.
46; the Light of the soul, 53; its
light and heat, 264; the health of the
soul, i. 424; ii. 60; hidden in the
soul, 16; the Tabernacle of Protection,
i, 4256; fills and moves the soul, 114,
116; dwells substantially in it, 451;
purifies the soul, 345; none but He
can heal the soul, i ii, 47; faculties of
the soul absorbed i in, i. 394; free and
sovereign in giving His graces, 124;
bliss and power of His touches, 177 ;
God strange to the soul, why, ii. 77 ;
ag os the soul, 7 is voice
upon waters, 79; is whisper,
8); His touch, 80 80, 243; a joy for
ever, 115; God alone can make saints,
i, 335 ; must be preferred to His best
gifts, 77 5 gl glorified by the soul's self-
290;
reverence for, acquired in the Ni ht of
Sense, 361 ; forvtaste of, in the ight

470

GoD

of the Spirit, 405; way to God found
in suffering, ii. 247; to be found re-
quires personal effort, 29; man adds
nothing to God, i. 233; good works
only done in His power, ii. 156 ; God
will do His own work in the soul, 1.
855; His work hindered by man, ii.
273 ; His awakening in the soul, 296 ;
His breathing in it, 304; the soul
prepared for, i. 422; the Guide of
the soul, 423; leads souls by dif-
ferent paths, ii. 282; dwells in souls
in various ways, 302; not found in
self-will, 30; union with, by know-
ledge and love, 72; found by the
soul when its passions are subdued,
i. 418 ; found in secret by contempla-
tion, 430; the Companion of the
soul’s solitude, ii, 184; God unveiling
His face, 299; the spirit at peace
with God, i. 452; God obscured by the
imperfect soul, 381; lost to the soul
by sin, 23; by one mortal sin, 45;
four degrees of departure from, 248 ;
painful sense of His absence, ii. 24 ;
His words sweet to some, tasteless to
others, 222 ; dishonoured in His own
feasts, how, i. 304; God the end of
the soul’s journey, 455

GOD the object of the Intellect by Faith :
contemplation the ascent to God, i.
431; joy of the union of Intellect and
Will in God, 411 ; Faith on earth cor-
responds to Vision in Heaven, ii. 63 ;
the last veil to be removed, 299

— the object of the Memory by Hope:
alone to be remembered, i. 211; heard
in the silence of Memory, 215

— the object of the Will by love: must
be loved above all things, i. 22, 43;
ji. 20, 164; excludes love of self,
i. 444; love for God the condition
of perfection, 432; produces perfect
obedience, 438; two signs of true
love for God, ii. 49 ; a prisoner
of love, 168; pleased only with love,
150; possession of, in this life by

ect love, i. 489; ii. 114; seen by

ove in His creatures, 76; in His at-
tributes, 173; Divine usals of
the soul with the Word of God, i.
453

— the object of the Beatific Vision in
Heaven, i. 440; ii. 63; longed for
by the soul, i. 357; nothing less can
satisfy the soul, ii, 39; given to Him-
self by love, 293

|
‘—i0°a

INDEX.

HEA

Gold, worshippers of, i. 262

Goods, division of, i. 243; Temporal,
244; their abuse, 247; their proper
use, 252; Natural, 256; their abuse,
258 ; their proper use, 262 ; Sensible,
their abuse and use, 264-273 ; Moral,
their superiority, 273; evils of vainly
rejoicing in, 276; benefits of self-
denial in, 281; Supernatural, direc-
tions regarding, 283-290; Spiritual,
their importance and definition, 292;
divided into sweet and bitter, 292;
sweet distinct goods classified into
Motive, Provocative, Directive, Per-
Sective, 293; directions respecting, 293

Gospel, sufficient for guidance, i. 149 ;

_ contrasted with the pers dispensa-
tion, 156

Grace, the gift of God, i. 21, 124; ne-
cessary for union with 9; as-
sisted by nature, 163; love the end
of, 235; the presence of God to those
not in mortal sin, ii. 55; be-
fore and with the human will, 163;
the cause of merit, 171; the flower-
ing of virtues, 163; makes the soul
an object of God’s love, 171; acts
according to the Divine Law, 266

Gratitude, the soul awakened by motives
of, ii. 13; a perfection of the soul’s
beauty, 296

Gregory, S., the Great, quoted in regard
to reason and faith, i, 289; in
to the fire of Pentecost, 439 ; ii. 236;
on the love of God, 263

Grief, as one of the passions, reforma-
tion of, i. 241

Guides, three blind, of the soul, ii. 266;
(1) an unfit spiritual director, 267-
284; (2) Satan, 284-287; (3) Self,
287, 288

Guilt of pardoned sin returns no more,
ii. 174

HAE. force of, i. 46; of imperfec-
tion, impede the Divine union, 66 ;

the measure of work, 328; evil, de-
stroyed by suffering, ii. 348

Happiness, only reached by purity of
heart, i. 9; only found in God, 17,
314; past, memory of, increases the
pain of the soul in the Obscure Night,
38 : ; in victory over spiritual enemies,
44

Health of the soul, God, i. 424; ii. 60

4

—)

ey ae

~ "ie. 2 ©

“

y;
in of loes, felt by the soul in
Ay. why the soul

© of, ii.
Mitkas 1
11
Sapclaten, 72; Cetilising

faith the greatest light of

twelve fruits of, 368 ; in
being and
breath of, 97; the soul for
este: the love of the
soul for 197; His feast in the

; on,

431; the soul of perfection, 226 ;
essential to every step of the m
ladder, 439; found in love, 43

ceasary to overcome Satan, 183; “ih

i. 334; in imperfections,

333: the least act of, better than

in word,
$12; of the Anthor, i. 3; ii. 3, 217;
maxims regarding, 281-3

INDEX. 471

ii. 142; when inexcusable in a spiri-
tual director, 2 284

Illumination, on, spisitenl, i. 362; of the
intellect, 412; Divine, why called
es cas.* 381, 397; conditions of, ii, 275

spiritual life, ii. 12
Images, of, i. 239; of sainta,
useful, 294; how they become idols,

* 295; use and abuse of, 297, 333;
Satan's use of, 300; to be used as a
means, not as an end, 301

Imagination, its nature to recombine
sensations, i. 98, 115; its office and
two sources, 97 ; cannot picture God,
82, 98, 117; _may serve as a remote
means of union with God, 97; useful
for beginners, 99 ; of the, 265;
may be supernatu yaffected without
sensation, 115; distractions of the, ii.
110; may be excited by Satan, 92

Imitation of Christ, the only way to
perfection, i. 78; ii, 346

Impatience, ' with others, imperfection of,
i. 338 ; with self, contrary to humility,
339

Imperfections, in beginners, of spiritual
pride, i. $29 ; of spiritual ped 333;
of spiritual luxury, 335; of anger,
338; of spiritual “gluttony, 339; of
envy, 343; of spiritual sloth, 344;
pain of being conscious of, 392, 404;
a source of suffering, 403; habitual,
how remedied, ii. 153

i.
Incarnation, the full ion of the

Word of God, i. 157; the
— of rhatoney ii. 37, 42, 123; gives
ty to the universe,

sa roan recias of, 192; taught

a Rm on, teacingenit of be a CURIE
180

Instructions, practical, for subduing our
desires, i, 48 ; prado) nF our pas-
sions, 49 ; for acquiring humility, 50 ;
how to love, know, possess, and be
like the All, which is God, 50; for
prayer, 308

Intellect, the, cannot comprehend God,
i, 82; cautioned, 203 ; transformation
of, in the Night of the Spirit, 380 ;
reformed in faith, pS 240; Gaeaet
faith, 122; gore forward
ii, 276; sac ett weoton Sf me
tual goods pertaining to, i. 292; ed

472
INT

with the will in God, 411; born anew
to a supernatural life, 416; vested in
faith leaves all things for God, 445;
passive, communication of pure truth
to, ii. 81; Divine truth in, 64; pai
of the soul in, 27; transformed in
God, 250; unites with the Will and
Memory in serving God, 151; com-
pared to a cavern, 262; the eye of the
soul, 290; the ear which receives the
whisper of God, 81; the soul enjoys
God in, 140 .

Intention, purity of, the value of good
works, i. 275

Interpretation of prophecy, examples of
false, i. 134-9; spiritual, of the words
of God, 140-1; true, how secured, 140

Intuition, supernatural, objects of, i.
171; detachment from, 183

Isaias, the Prophet, complaint of, i. 136

ACOB, the Patriarch, three com-
mandments of, i. 21; prophecy to,
134; his prayer, 311 ; his ladder, 432
Jeremias, the Prophet, lamentation of,
i. 34, 146, 389; prayer of, 137; ex-
ample of, 428; describes the exile of
the soul, ii. 101; illustration from,
246 ; sacrificial fire concealed by, 257
Jericho, its destruction used as an illus-
tration of perfect detachment, i. 44
Jerusalem, wept over by Christ, why, i.
303; Daughters of, what, 203; ii.
155; the New, 200
JESUS CHRIST, the only begotten Son
of God, ii. 15; the Word made flesh,
i. 157 ; prophecies relating to, 138 ;
mental sorrows of, 79; accomplished
His greatest work in dereliction of
spirit, 79; voice from Heaven in re-
gard to, ii. 78; His parables, i. 143;
His words, spirit, and life, ii. 222;
His doctrine, contempt of all earthly
things, i. 19; the soul in search of, i.
13; restores the soul to justice,
109 ; His union with His church, 187 ;
conditions necessary for knowing, i.
222; ii. 193; necessity of confessing
Him before men, 157; imitation of,
maxims regarding, 346; the only Path
to holiness, i. 48, 78; our Teacher in
the way of the Cross, 75; our Com-
panion, Reward, and Model, 77-8 ;
meditation on His life and passion
necessary, 204, 356; His sacred Hu-
manity always to be kept in mind,
212; few lovers of His Cross, 80 ;

INDEX.

LAM

mysteries of the knowledge of, ii. 192;
truth as it is in Him, 193; compared

to a hart, ii. 71; the Divine Flower of

fragrance and beauty, 126; adorned
by the triple crown of His saints, 163;
the Light of Heaven, 53

Jews, what permitted to, forbidden to
Christians, i. 156

Job, the Patriarch, example of, i. 362,
383 ; ii. 43, 82

Jonas, the Prophet, his conditional pro-
gs against Ninive, i, 143, 145;

is flight, 146

Joy, as one of the ions, its defini-
tion and twofold division, i. 243; its
six sources, 243 ; to be mortified, 49 ;
reformation of, 241; in regard to the
various classes of goods, 243-292; in
creatures ends in loss of God, 248*

— spiritual, the fruit of mortification,
i. 38; after passing through the Ob-
scure Night, 326; after sorrow, ii.
248 ; vicissitudes of, i. 392; accom-
panied by pain in the flesh, ii. 69; in
the possession of the Beloved, 74;
compared to the sea, 114; of perfect
union with God, 181; a fruit of
wisdom, 190; in the attributes and
judgments of God, 194; eternal, can-
ticle of, 207; everlasting, song of,
251; of the beatified soul, 256; God,
a joy for ever, 115

Judgment of the things of God, how
rectified, ii. 290

Judith, example of, i. 152

Justice, the order of the soul, i. 35;
moral, the foundation of spiritual per-
fection, 218; original, the soul restored
to the likeness of, 453

— the soul restored to, by Christ, ii. 109

| gtr sete necessary for a moral
act, i. 40; natural and super-
natural, divisions of, 88 ; spiritual,
classification of, 167
— of God, through the Church, i. 159;
infused, 177; li. 195; partial, 40;
acquired, perfected by infused, 144;
prayed for by the soul, 189; gate to,
the Cross, 190; distinct, not needed
for supernatural love for God, 141;
unspoken mysteries of, 44

ADDER, mystical, of contemplation,
i. 433
Lamps, of God, what, ii. 254; of the
fire cf love, 256

Li of spirit, a fruit of self-denial,
i. ; found in suffering, 365; found
in the Night of the Spirit, 396 ; under
i ii. 182; of the

one the best sermon, i. 318;

ly, a kind of death to the loving
soul, 45; by love made longer in
intensity, 46; but shorter in duration,
233; twofold, of the soul in God, 46;
called a web, why, 231; spiritual, two
kinds of, 249

Light, of the soul, God, ii. 53; Divine,
dark approach to, 67; of God, reflected
in the purified soul, 292

Locutions, spiritual, a source of super-
natural knowledge, i. 167; successive,
what, 189; interior and substantial,
character of, 199

Iot, example of his wife, ii. 310

Love of God for Himself, as the Supreme
Good, ii. 172; love of the Father for
the Son, the Holy Ghost, 72, 197

— — — for his creatures, ii. 172; sur-

473
Lov

52; makes the soul , 441; the
end of graces, 935 ; the fidimext of
the law, 240; the only source of bles-

409; found in the Night of

433; inebriating, 414; stronger than
death, 415; ii. 66; esteems labour as
nothing, i. 435; thinks nothing of
obstacles, ii. 66 ; disinterested, i. 436;
ii. pol Soar spe secrets, i. 440;
the guide to , li. 19; necessary
Sapesition for the student of mystical
theology, 2; obtains all things, 20;
impatient, 42; signs of true, 49, 253 ;
the health of the soul, 60; cure
of imperfect, 61; spiritual banquet
of, 89; causes s ering, how, 95;
makes life long in intensity but short
in duration, 233; nothing else pleas-
ing to God, 150; the growth of the
soul, 150; the soul centred on, 151;
in a ect soul, unconscious, 152;
nature of, 170; mutual, of
God and the soul, 178; cannot be
expressed, 1; the soul must always
strive to increase in, 73
Love for God, appreciative, excludes love
of self, i. 444-5; esteems God above
everything, i. 20; ii. 20; fear of the
loss of God, the soul’s greatest afflic-
tion, i. 413; would endure a thou-
sand deaths to please God, 413; seeks
7 other reward than emg in
ve, ii. 60; a strong highl
~ esteemed by God, 175 :
— — — /ire of, its nature and effects,
i. 356, 403, 405, 439; ii. 223, 236,
258 ; ne ey ire a eee
tyrdom, i. 357; inflam know-
ledge, ii. 39; enters the soul when
nares by suffering, rae! 407; the
eeper it penetrates stronger it
becomes, 407, 457; the soul's anxi
in, two causes of, 408; fills the
with a estimation of God, 413;
renders all things possible, 414; ex-
emplified in S. Mary Magdalen, 414;
drives the soul out of itself, ii. 22;
burns with desire to burn still more,
73; removes from the soul all that is
not love, 149; the seraph's dart, 239 ;

in of, caused by imperfections, i
103: at first p> Hira § afterwards
sweet, ii. 227

Lore, wound of, from the touch of God,

474 INDEX.

LOV

i. 117; its nature and effects, ii. 236 ;
most sweet and desirable, 23, 48;
the soul healed by being more deeply
wounded, 47, 237; three, inflicted on
the soul, how, 41; complaint of the
absence of the Beloved, 13, 21, 47;
the soul gives back to God the love
it has received, i.e. God Himself,
293; by it the soul forsakes itself and
all creatures, 23; increased by angels
and men, how, 43; enough to cause
death, 44; by it the soul longs for
the vision of the Beloved, 48

Love for God, Unitive, renders the soul
in all its powers one with God, i. 416 ;
li. 122, 166; only reached by suffer-
ing, i. 411; requires mortification of
the natural passions and desires, 406,
417 ; impeded by habitual imper-
fections, 377; by it the soul lives
more in Heaven than on earth, ii. 46;
sees all things in God, 75,; exempli-
fied in S. Paul, 65; the perfect return
of, 293 ; mysteries of, 197, 295

— — — perfect, its two necessary con-
ditions, knowledge of God and of self,
i, 432; attained by faith, hope, and
charity, 445; casts out servile fear,
ii. 116, 130; but preserves filial fear,
139; not to be tested by sensible
emotions, 14, 277; seven grades of,
correspond to the seven gifts of the
Holy Ghost, 139 ; the sole occupation,
151-3; prayer, 154; work for souls,
155; gives all and the best to God,
253; one of the perfections of the
soul's beauty, 295; loves and praises
God for what He zs, 296, 329; great
value of acts of, 220

— — — transforming, its nature and
effects, ii. 64; value of its acts, 220,
227; harmonises desire with resig-
nation, 228; its glory the will of
God, 229; the same that purified the
soul by suffering, 227; principle of,
the Holy Ghost, 197; desires the
vision of God, 233

Love for our neighbour, better shown
by prayer than by work, ii. 155;
maxims regarding, 359

Lovers of God, the true, ii. 20; of the
Cross, few, i. 80

Luxury, spiritual, imperfections of, i.
335

AMMON, idols of the worship of,
i, 251 ,

Man, nobler than the universe, i. 34;
serves God by loving and longing for
Him on earth, ii. 43; cannot see God
and live, 57; the old and the new,
249; hinders God’s work, 273; the
sensual described, 291

Manna, a type of God, i. 19

Mardochai, illustration from life of, ii.
248

Maria Maggiore, Santa, Church of, in
Rome, ii. 311

Marriage, vanity of rejoicing in, i, 247

— spiritual, the final state of perfection,
ii. 12, 65,119; how different from
spiritual betrothal, 89; the soul con-
firmed in grace by, 120; expectation
of, 265

Martha, rebuke of, by our Lord, ii. 154

Martyrdom of Divine love, i. 357

Martyrs, purple crown of, ii. 163

Mary, the Blessed Virgin, her perfect
love for God, i. 210; her will united
to the Holy Spirit, 210; merited by
suffering, li. 113; overshadowed by
the Holy Ghost, 259

Mary Magdalen, 8., example of, i. 413;
ii. 155

Meditation, as a source of knowledge,
i. 96; its definition, 97; use of,
limited, 99; should cease in con-
templation, 102, 355; ii. 268; why
sometimes painful, i. 105; when to
be resumed, 112; when to be avoided,
114; the third step in perfection, 124;
inability for, 352, 393; on the life
and passion of Christ, 356

Melancholy, its bad effects, i. 349

Memory, purified by hope, i. 72; re-
formation of the, 207, 293; evils of
undisciplined, 213; God heard in the
silence of, 215; hindrances of the
natural, 217; effects of purified, 219;
and hope, relation between, 221; de-
ception of unmortified, 223; benefits
of self-denial in, 230; difference be-
tween spiritual and imaginative, 235;
of the purely spiritual, 237 ; reformed
in hope, 240; transformation of, in
the Night of the Spirit, 380; of past
happiness, 388; born anew to a super-
natural life, 416; vested in hope,
leaves all thi for God, 444; pain
of the soul in, 1i. 27; the soul enjoys
God in, 140; transformed in
250; compared to a cavern, 263; how

_
cen. Mi ne fer a é eee) ean eS a oe eS

more fitted for God, 278 ; unites with
perma and will in serving God,
51

Merit caused by grace, ii. 171

Miracles, at i

Moder i ii. 379
odesty, maxims

Mortification, in

cult, 54; both of the flesh and of the
spirit necessary, 64; in little things
necessary, 253; of senses, benefits of,
269, 270; folly of exterior without
interior, 340; security found in, 420;
the way to God in, ii. 31; the devil
to be overcome by, 33

Moses, hesitation of, i. 161; his essential
vision of God, 170; example of, 361,
428; ii. 98; the Incarnation taught
by, 193; on Mount Sinai, 264

Motives, acts determined by, ii. 291

Mount Sinai, a type of ection, i. 20

Mountains consecrated God, Mount
Sinai, Mount Horeb, Mount Garganus,
i. 311 )

Mysteries, of the Incarnation, ii. 192;
of the knowledge of God, 44; their
depth, 193

ATURE, first movements of, involun-
oat 39; orderof, may
not be transgressed, 147 ; assisted b
God, i. 208; perfected. by grace
209 ; beauty of; u reflection of the un-
created beauty of God, ae the Di-
vine, participation in, 1
Nazarites, the powers of the soul signi-
i.

— the Obscure, of the soul, twofold
division 1) a tion of the
flesh ; (2) of the spirit, i. 8; its nature

cause, 9; three reasons for using

| Orders, re

475
PEA

ii. 67; transformation of , in-
tellect, and will in, i. 380; its defini.
tion, 380; benefits and blessings of,
412, 454
Night, the Obscure, treatise of referred
on ii. 168, 227, He 270
ightingale, song of the, ii. 205
aaa - of creatures compared to
i. 1

Novices, treatment of, i. 320; encouraged

by sweetness, 327

BEDIENCE, better than miracles, i.

164; the penance of reason, 340;

the safe guide to action, 340; to the

a law of love, ii. 149; action from, 311

bscurity in mystical theology, how
remedied, i. 7

peop vanity in the decoration of, i.

Order, a Divine, in nature and grace, i.
123; of the soul, fruits of the, 218;
in er niion.

aay highest ithe ‘atven te
founders of, ii. 239 ak

, caused by sin, i. 27; design of,
Pu areal tue ae ote
the intellect, memory, and will, ii. 27 ;
ee my Baa bees Set iri
joy of, 69; bodily and spiritual, in-
pment Bagel A Nocmmager
e perfect 210; capacit the
flesh for, 263 ——
Parable of the ten virgins, i. 275
Paradise, flowers of, ii. 36; tree o £123
Passions, the four, of joy, hope, fear,
and grief, how mortified, i. 49; their
oe on homme 241; the
80 to after subyuga-
tion of, 418

Patience, want of, i. 339; found in suf-
fering, 366; ii. 246; in the Sensitive
Night, i. 354; maxims regarding, ii.

358

Paul, S., prudence of, i. 162; his essen-
tial vision of God, 170; example of, —
ii. 82; stigmata of, 241; merit of,

by suffering, 113

Ponce of mind, attaiiod by sortie
of the desires, i. 53 ; different
of, in this life, 70; how inj
131; the river of, flowing from
into the soul, 216 ; resulting from self-
restraint in memory, 219; the fruit of

476

PEN

detachment, 231; found in suffering,

366 ; true, found in the Spiritual Night,

400; of the spirit with God, 452;

resignation found in, 351; of God,

surpassing knowledge, ii. 116 ; maxims

regarding, 358 ; everlasting, reign of,

117

- Penance, sacrament of, indevotion in
the use of, i. 269; of reason, obedience,
340; exterior, useless without interior,
340

Penitents, how they waste the time of
confessors, i. 231; liberty of, ii. 280 ;
duties of directors to, 282

Pentecost, day of, coming down of the
Holy Ghost on, ii. 236

Perfect, the, state of, that of Divine
union with God, i. 327 ; in the service
of God compared to old wine, ii. 136

Perfection, defined to be the union of the
soul with God, i. 1 ; consists in perfect
love for God and contempt of self,
432; the state of the kingdom of God,
68; requires trial and labour, 3, 6,
74; hindrances to, 4, 41; consists in
knowing how to deny ourselves, 78,
128 ; four states of progress in, 123;
its maturity, 125; detachment from
supernatural intuitions necessary for,
183; moral justice, foundation of,
218 ; not found in high thoughts, 225 ;
rewards of, 256; true nature of, 296,
334; doing the will of God, 344;
necessity of the Spiritual Night for,
377 ; made impossible by one selfish
affection, 397 ; two conditions of,'432 ;
of love, ii. 50; the highest, free from
ecstasies, 70; final state of, 108; the
road from penance to, 119; the highest
state of possible in this life, what,
121; the second espousals of the soul,
124; seven degrees of, 139 ; love, the
form and substance of, 149; love, the
cause of, 166 ; how few attain to, 245;
joys of the state of, 251 ; the guide to,
266; evangelical, 275; of the beauty
of the soul, what, 295

Perfections, the uncreated, of God, i. 237

Perseverance in prayer, i. 355

Pictures of saints, vanity in devotion to,
i, 294

Pilgrimages, dissipation in, i. 298

Poverty of spirit, how attained, i. 282;
two examples of, 334; cultivation of,
necessary, ii. 309 ; maxims regarding,
384-6

Praise, perfections of beauty in, ii. 296

INDEX.

PUR

Prayer, begins in meditation, ends in
contemplation, i. 99, 100; signs of
progress in, 101 ; is waiting upon God,
103; answer to, sometimes hidden,
142; sometimes given in anger, 147 ;
the remedy in troubles, 148; direc-
tions for, 308; reasons for choosing
a particular place for, 310; all places
fit for, 311; seeks the will of God,
313 ; the Lord’s Prayer enough, 315,
316; perseverance in, 355; holy bold-
ness in, 438; answered in due time,
ii. 26; best kind of, 28; to be accom-
panied by works of love and self-
denial, 29; necessity of, 33, 369;
fruits of, 369 ; quality of, 370 ; motives
for, 371; place for, 372; made by
loving, 154; recommended to men of
zeal, 156 ; impeded by physical causes,
i. 103 ; worldliness in, 297 ; how men
seek themselves, not God in, 342; why
sometimes irksome, 345; distractions
in, 393; impediments to, ii. 372-375

Preachers, advice to, i. 317; duties of,
319

Preaching, more spiritual than vocal, i.
317 ; end of, to move the will, 319

Presence of God, consciousness of, ii.
303; to the soul, three kinds of, 55

Presumption, avoided by remembering
our sins, ii. 174

Pride, spiritual, danger of, i. 224; two
Seniitios for, 225 ; the imperfection of
beginners, 329; the imperfection of
proficients, 376; victory over, 281;
diabolical subtlety of, 90

Proficients, the state of, i. 327; habitual
imperfections of, 375

Progress, spiritual, four states of, ii. 119;
true test of, 277; not ascertained by
consciousness, 287

Prophecy, misunderstood examples of,
i. 134-139; not of human interpreta-
tion, 137; relating to Christ, 138;
conditional, 143; fulfilled in God's
time, 146

Prosperity, worldly, counsels regarding,
i. 246

Prudence, of 8. Paul, i. 162; required
in spiritual directors, ii. 267 ; maxims
concerning, 364

Purgation, sensitive, way of, i. 348; of
sense and spirit, 378 ; way of, relating
to beginners, ii. 12; state of, 119;
spiritual, 230; degrees of, 247

Purgatory in this life, i. 388 ; how souls
suffer in, 403; ii, 245; of love and of

409
the cause of, 403

Purity of heart, necessary for union with
God, = 9: resulting from self-denial

UIET of the soul, found only in fol-
lowing the idance of the Holy
Spirit, i. 100 ; Divine, of the soul, 453

ACHEL, an illustration of impatient

God 36 ; - Paith, harmon 7

found in, i. 351

lations, ar, not to be trasted,
i. 117, 131; hard to understand, 145;
fulfilled in God’ s time, 146 ; unneces-
: ptt, th Catholic faith,

nature, 174

Riches, evils of, i.
Ritual, Roman, ound ii, 36
Romans, the ancient, example of, i. 274
Rosaries, folly in regard to, i. 296, 353

og Be caused by selfish indul-

Beings science of the, i. 181; made by

477

SEL

God alone, 335; not made in oar:

339; the crown of Christ, ii. 16
the flowers of Paradise, 36

8. Augustine quoted, i. 18, 363, 436;
ii. 16, 36

8. Dionysius quoted, i. 84, 381 ; ii. 82

S. Francis of Assisi, saying of, ii. 76;
PA cones 240

8. Gregory the Great quoted, i. 289,

439; ii. 263
Mary | , example of, i. 289,
413; ii. 155

8. Paul, example of, ii. 82, 241

S. Teresa referred to, ii. 70
8. a the Apostle, example of, i.

4 Thinan Aeeline quoted, ii. 198
Samson, an example of the slavery of
sin, i. 28; referred to, ii. 20
Satan, influence and character of, i. 90;
as an angel of light, 93; called the
Bree or Gd ii. 33 ; our enemy, 32, 307;
guide, 286 ry i.
130; among prophets, 151;
know of physical causes, ‘151;
the father of lies, 183; malice of, ii.
90; Leviathan a type of, 164; likened
to a huntsman, 94; to a cobbler, i.
186; as a logician, 193; a
297 ; as a wonder-worker, 287; at
festivuls like a merchant at a fair,
304 ; enters everywhere, ii. 310; the
source of spiritual luxury, i. 336;

451; ascertains state of spirit -by

: evidences of the sensitive nature, 447;
visions caused by, 172; as-
saults of, 448; suffered God to
afflict the soul, 450 ; a over
219; deliverance from, ; afraid
of the perfect soul, ii. tae; bE an
by mortification, 33 ; cautions against,
$11

Science of the world, nee, ii, 142;
no true, without Got 143

Scripture, Holy, the fountain of Mys-
tical Theology, i. 3; ii. 2; our guide,
i. 160

Scruples, a waste of time, ii, 321

Self to be despised, i. 361; preset
eo 402; darkness of,

of, felt under the strength of God,
383 ; a blind guide, ii. 287
Self-conceit, from Be mee Bee
Goods, i. 276; self-delusion, ere
, 154

478

SEL

Self-denial, necessity and benefits of, i.
19, 21, 31, 43, 48, 76, 254, 263, 270,
281, 290; inward, the way to God,
173; in memory, 230; in sense and
spirit, an effect of Divine love, ii. 145;

— 183

ess compared to the remora,
i. 41; its misery, 24

Self-knowledge essential to the spiritual
life, i. 5; should precede knowledge
of creatures, ii. 34

Self-love, delusions of, i. 191, 225; de-
vices of, 330; subtleties of, 278; in
unadvised frequent communion, 341 ;
degrades actions, ii. 291

Self-renunciation in the search for God,
ii. 23; the way to God, 31

Self-will, hinders progress in perfection,
i. 4, 63; cannot find God, ii. 30

Sense, ignorant of what is done in the
spirit, i, 447

Senses, the channels of knowledge, i. 12,
115, 123; called the suburbs of
the soul, ii. 103; how mortified, i.
12, 13, 49, 123; evils of self-in-

mee in, 267; mortification of,

the first step in perfection, 123;
affected su y, 89; liable to
deception in spiritual matters, 90;
inferior to the spirit, 125; interior
and exterior as related to God, 89;
aridity in, its cause, 349; rule in re-
gard to the, 203

Seraph, dart of fire of the, ii. 239

Sermon, a good life the best, i. 318

Shadow, of God, what, ii. 259, 293;
of fruition, 295

Shepherd, the Good, rejoices over his
recovered sheep, ii. 118

Sight, three conditions of, object, me-
dium, organ, ii. 289

Silence, spiritual, necessary and profit-
able, i. 215; in the soul, ii. 319;
maxims regarding, 379

Simony, spiritual, “ey i. 252

Simplicity of mind, a n dispo-
eion he the student of Mystical
Theology, ii. 2

Sin, its pain, i. 25, 28, 45; darkness,
29; defilement, 33; weakness, 37;
different effects of, 45, 46; of the
flesh, 261; roots of, 375; difference
between mortal and venial, 45

— guilt of pardoned, returns no more,
ii. 174

Sinai, Mount, a type of perfection, i. 20 ;
specially chosen by 311

INDEX.

sou

Singleness of heart, a condition of loving
God, ii. 164
~— spiritual, imperfections of, i.

Sobriety, spiritual, what, i. 343

Solitude, spiritual, God found in, i. 417;
of the heart, ii. 95; of the soul in
search for God, 182; of the contem-
plative soul, 272; the soul in, com-

toa w, 86

Solomon blinded by self-indulgence, i,
32; example of, 274, 314

Sorrow, motives of awakening the soul,
ii. 13 ; turned into joy, 248

Soul of man, its nobility, i. 34; its

. capacity, 14; for Heaven or Hell,
ii. 262 ; its twofold life, 46 ; the living
temple of God, i. 307; God dwells
substantially in the, 451; ii 16;
His threefold presence, Being, Grace,
and Love, 55; cannot gain rest from
creatures, 49; nor in this life, 21;
only satisfied in God, 39, 51 ; its three
powers corrupted by sin, i. 36; en-
slaved by unruly desires, 37; must be
emptied of the finite, ii. 262; the
imperfect, obscures God, i. 381;
misery of, seen in the Divine light,
415; idleness of, what, 107 ; enlight-
ened and purified by suffering, 363,
371, 398 ; leaving the house of self-
indulgence, 417; delivered from itself
and prepared for God, 422; its long-
ing search after God, 357, 408, 433,
434, 437; ii. 113; the prize of a con-
test, 449; afflicted by Satan, 450;
conscious of two forces, 452; feels
abandoned by God and man, 386;
trial of, by fire, 387; threefold pain
of, ii. 27; blessings received by, in
the Spiritual Night, 454; not to be
ju sensible emotions, ii. 14;
purified Leen alone, i. 345; God
will do His own work in the, 355;
justice the a, order of the, 218 ;
superiority of the passive, 233 ; enno-
bled | by self-denial in supernatural
goods, 291; means of the final puri-
fication of the, what, 379; t
spiritual paths for different souls, ii.
282; how guided, 268, 274; how it
may hinder its own progress, 287 ; its
faculties called caverns, why, 262,
288; faculties of, absorbed in God,
i. 394; an exile in the world, at home
in God, 399 ; ii. 101 ; God the health
of, i. 424; ii. 47, 60; its light, 53;

guarded by the obscurity of Divine
Contemplation, 1, 24; led to unin
with a hi God, 430 ; ii. 17; ascend-
2 eo all ceeraary oe
i from self and the devil, 427;

in dread of, 128; reflects the light of

espousals of, 74, 124; filled a

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when, 436; at peace with God, 452;
ii. 95

pared by, for the oa i

of God, 398; spiritual, cause ii.
67; produced by love, 95; bring wis-
dom, 190; to be borne with
246 ; the way to God, 247

Superior, a lawful, obedience to, its ne-

- cessity, ii. 312 ;

Supernataral, the author of the, i.
211; evils of reflection on the, 222;
cannot be reached by unassisted na-
ture, ii, 171

Superstition of certain external obser-
vances, i, 312

Sweetness, sensible, not to be sought for,
i. 120; ii. 313; the second state of
perfection, i, 124; spiritual better than,
125 ; in prayer, evils of attachment to,
308 ; beginners encouraged by, 327 ;
ii. 136; source of ~ anon luxury, i.
335 ; sometimes followed by peevish-
ness, 339; invisible grace better
than, 342; desire for, enfeebles the
will, 343; true spiritual, what, 377;
4 gift of God, ii. 132

tee we gt of protection, God,
i, 425

Taste natural, not spiritual fervour, i.
422; bad, how it offends sanctity,
295

Temperance, spiritual, found in suffer-

* ing, i. 366 : a
emptati their design, i.

og pe same pegg Bn

Theology, mystical, what, ii, 148; re-
lation to scholastic, 3

Thirst of the soul, ii. 66; of the intel-
lect, 262

aie S. (Aquinas), referred to, ii.

Tobias, the holy, after his trials, ii, 185

Torrent, God compared to, ii. 77

Touch of God, power and bliss of, i. 177;
sweet odour of virtues from, ii. 89 ;

480

TRA

varying in duration and intensity,
135; of the Second Person of the
Blessed Trinity, 242; spiritual, of
the soul, 80

Transformation of the soul in God by

icipation, i. 69; of the memory,

intellect, and will, 380; of love, 404;
ii. 65; perfect in the infinite love of
God, 209; in God, 218; in glory,
shadow of, 65

Trifles, may impede growth in holiness,
i. 41

Trinity, the Blessed, mystery of the
Father and the Son in, ii. 15; the
Holy Ghost in, compared to charity
in the soul, 72; the soul made a per-
fect image of, 204; work of, in the
soul, 235

Truth, of God, how found, i. 160; com-
munication of, to the passive intellect,
ii. 81; as it is in Jesus, 193; Divine,
thirsted for by the intellect, 262;
difficulties in knowing, the misery of
this life, i. 425

Tyranny, spiritual, what, i. 282

CTION, of the Holy Ghost, ii. 265 ;
of God, 288.

Union, the Divine, requires separation
from creatures, i. 21; requires trans-
formation of the will, 40; faith proxi-
mate means to, 54, 81; attained, not
by natural powers, but by faith, 62,
84-7, 421; its happiness, 63; faith
the only medium of true, ii. 62; of
love, 65; with God, by knowing and
loving him, 72; interior of love, 95;
love the medium of, 122; bliss of
a 126; with God by love, 140;
ove the cause of, 166; joys of, 180;
between Christ and his Church, 187 ;
perfect with God by love, 249; effects
of Divine, 297, 304; lower degrees
of, 303; substantial and moral, i. 66;
purity of heart and humility, disposi-
tions for, 69, 79; in intellect, memory,
and will, by faith, hope, and charity,
71; by the will, 118; by self-denial
in moral 282; of intellect and
will in God, joy of, 411; song of the
soul in, 323

Unitive way, ii. 12

Universe, questioned about God, ii. 35;
supernatural beauty of, 38; melodious
with the voice of God, 88

vt

INDEX.

vor :
ANITY, in the Sanctuary, i. 303;
maxims ing, ii. 383 ,
Vice, is love in disorder, i. 35; disorder
of the passions, 241; weaker than
virtue, ti. 165
Virgins, the ten, ble of, i. 275; the
white crown of, ii. 163
Virtue, is Love in order, i. 85; six
fruits of, 46; in reformation of the
passions, 241; to be loved for its own
sake, 274; merely natural, ineapable
of a aa reward, 275
Virtues, sweet odour of, from the touch
of God, ii. 89; belong to God because
from Him, to the soul because given
to it, 107; of the soul, made fragrant
by the Holy Spirit, 129; preserved
by charity, 130; crown and defend
the soul, 131; acquired in most
pleasing to God, 161; the two ele-
ments of, grace of God, act of man,
162; stronger than vice, 165; mutual
dependence of, 167; acquired by suf-
fering, 245; theological maxims con-
cerning, 347
Virtues, the three theological, their work
in the soul, i. 71 .
Visitations, supernatural, terror inspired
by, ii. 84
Vision, beatific, different capacities for,
i. 70; succeeds faith, 85, 87; of God
in Christ, 158 ; of God in contempla-
tion, 106; the will cannot be satisfied
with anything less than, ii. 39 ; fatal
to man, 57; bright day of the, 67;
perfect only in Heaven, 82; God
gives Himself to the soul, 88; of the
face of God, 208 ; called a sw , 88
Visions, supernatural and bodily, to be
rejected, i, 91, 93; their charac-
ter, 91; from God and from the
devil, 91; of the imagination, their
nature and sources, 115; not to be
trusted, 117, 131; unprofitable un-
less rejected, 119, 126; their good
effects received passively, 119, 128;
inferior to faith, 120; if dangerous,
why sent, 120, 122, 125; the fourth
step in perfection, 124; may become
occasions of error, 128, 133-142, 160;
how to be treated, 129, 131; the two
kinds of spiritual or intellectual,
169; essential of God, 170
Voice of the Beloved, ii. 71; of God in
the universe, 88
Voices, interior, faith and love better
than, i. 192 . »

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